Through Darkness and Light
by LtSonya
Summary: The boundary between the fëa and physical world has faded; what was sealed in the past will once again walk free. The elves ancient enemy has awakened and alliances of all creatures will be formed.
1. A Light in the Darkness

Through Darkness and Light

Chapter 1

A Light in the Darkness

The night was unusually cold for summer and the damp air caused Sirius's fur to stick together. He edged along an alleyway, nose low to the ground. There was an itch right between his shoulder blades and he glanced warily behind him.

A newspaper floated across the ground, but nothing else moved. His eyebrows narrowed, something didn't _feel_ right. There was a strange scent in the air, but not completely foreign. There were moments when it seemed familiar, but for the life of him, he couldn't remember.

Silence settled about him, heavy and compressing. Muggle voices drifted from nearby homes, but they were picked up by the wind and tossed aside. The stars had only been out for a few hours and the place was deserted, with the exception of the lone boy dragging his large trunk.

Nothing could have prepared him for this feeling. For the first time in years Sirius felt hope.

A breeze blew by, tickling his cold nose. His head shot around. He knew that smell!

Sirius lifted his head towards the nearest dustbin. A cheeseburger! He pushed his nose against the lid. And that, oh he knew that one too. Pizza? Saliva dripped from his mouth and his belly rumbled.

He jerked his nose away. There would be time enough to eat; Harry couldn't wait.

Light poles lined the paved road, but the one closest to Harry flickered on and off. He rolled his trunk behind him and stared at the ground, obviously uncaring of where he was going on.

Was he running away? Did that mean he didn't like living with his Aunt and Uncle?

There just might be, if he could clear himself, a chance. _My God has he grown_, thought Sirius. Even from this distance, he could see how much Harry looked like James. That body frame and build, even the hair was a mirror image of James.

Harry stopped in front of a park and laid his trunk down. He paced back and forth, his hands clenched at his sides. Faint traces of words carried to Sirius and he watched as Harry mumbled to himself.

Perhaps if he got closer he'd be able to hear. It was a risk, but adrenaline pumped through him. There was Harry Potter, not twenty feet from him!

He snaked around the dustbins, stepping over cans, being careful not to knock them over. The itch in between his shoulders became more insistent, but he shrugged it away. Instincts or not, there was no way he was going to hide when Harry was so close.

Sirius remembered the last time he had seen Harry, right after he found Lily and James dead. Harry's lightening shaped scar had blazed in the night, as if lit by its own magic.

Seeing that mark, a hopeless feeling had settled over him. They were dead and he failed to protect them. He would never forget Harry's red eyes and face matted with tears.

Sirius knocked over a glass jar and froze. The glass clinked against the ground, but didn't shatter. The sound boomed in his ears.

Harry looked around and focused on the alley.

Sirius held his breath, not even daring to move. The small crystal phial that hung from his neck lit up, the clear liquid blazing and briefly illuminated the alleyway. He jerked back and pressed the glass against his fury chest, snuffing out the light.

Harry stepped closer and held his wand out. "_Lumos_."

The world dissolved and the only thing Sirius saw was the skinny thirteen-year-old boy with wire framed glasses.

So many conflicting emotions arose in Sirius, contentment but also sorrow. Time had been stolen from him. Twelve years, all taken away from a man who was once one of his closest friends. Wormtail.

A growl rumbled in his throat. Betrayed. Lily and James had been betrayed. And Sirius had as good as killed them.

He sank to the ground, unable to bear the guilt. He would have given anything to hold Harry that night, to believe that not everything had been destroyed, but Hagrid had his orders from Dumbledore.

_Wait a second, get a grip on yourself_, he thought. Why was he hiding? Harry had no idea that he was an Animagus. Sirius stood up from his hiding place and stepped around the dustbin to get a better view of his godson.

Harry's eyes widened and in his hurry to back away, tripped over his trunk. He hit the ground hard and Sirius winced when Harry's elbows smashed into the curb.

The Knight Bus zoomed into view and slammed on its brakes right where Harry had been.

Sirius cursed. _Just wanted a quick look, it's not too dangerous_, he mocked, _couldn't have scared the boy more if I went up and introduced myself as the most infamous, and dangerous wizard to have lived_.

His angry banter froze in mid-thought; Harry could have been killed.

The bus completely blocked Harry from his view. Sirius ducked back behind the dustbin just as Harry peered around the bus, staring into the alley.

The conductor in the purple suit stared as well, and gave Harry an odd look. "What are you looking at?"

"Nothing," Harry answered, but glanced back one last time.

The crystal phial vibrated against Sirius's chest, pulling on its thin silver cord. His ears flattened back in surprise, what is with this thing tonight? The only time the phial had ever awakened was when he last saw James and Lily alive.

Sirius trotted closer to the bus, careful the angle only allowed him to see Harry but where Harry couldn't see him. There was a pine tree not far off and he dashed for it.

The conductor didn't seem to be paying Harry any mind, and bent down to retrieve his trunk. The skinny man grunted and shoved it onto the first step.

"Come on now, we've got to get going." He tugged the handle and dragged it over the last step. The conductor gave no outward notice of Harry's scar, and Sirius didn't smell any surprise coming from the man.

Harry reached to pick up his wand, but stopped.

"Now what are you waiting for?"

The phial throbbed as if it were a beating heart. _What do you want now?_ The phial didn't answer, but pounded against Sirius's chest, tugging him in the direction Harry was looking.

Sirius scanned the street and where the road curved was the faint outline of a person. The words 'Death Eater' raced through his mind.

His lips pulled back to reveal large yellowing teeth. No one would harm Harry.

As if to answer his challenge, a breeze brushed past his ears and there was a voice, a fleeting whisper that dissolved as soon as he heard it. The phial was more insistent now. Sirius crouched, ready to spring.

_I won't let anyone hurt him_.

The pulsing ceased and he blinked several times. No, it couldn't be. But how? The person was gone, disappeared right before his eyes. Yet, he hadn't heard any loud pops so the person couldn't have Disapparated.

An engine rumbled and Sirius's head shot up. The Knight Bus streaked into the air leaving behind a trail of tire tracks and its purple color faded into the dark night.

Sirius's heart fell. For years he had longed to see Harry and now he was gone. Those precious moments flashed by, but he would treasure them as if they were his last.

The phial had returned to its normal self, a liquid that swayed in the glass. It had awakened at the worst possible moment, shortening his time with Harry. The phial had always been a mystery to him, including everyone else in the wizarding world.

From somewhere deep in his memory he heard the woman's voice, "_You will need this, a guide through the darkness if that path presents itself._"

Who was she? Why could he still not remember that night? The only clear images he had were of his fight against a group of Death Eaters and a blue light.

This phial had become one of his small joys through those long years in Azkaban simply because no one could get it off him. Sirius found the situation hilarious.

Whenever someone tried to remove it, their hands were burned. Even with spells of protection the thing just wouldn't budge. He couldn't even take it off, no matter how many times he tried.

Wizards and witches of every Order had claimed it was dark magic. The only one who probably believed his story about a strange woman was Dumbledore.

The truth was he would not have survived Azkaban without it. The phial became a thin veil of protection, transparent but it was still there. The dementors had never been far from his cell, but their presence wasn't as strong.

If he ever saw that woman again it wouldn't be a pretty sight. He still owed her back for that thumping she gave him.

This glass may have become his protection from the dementors, but no one had pure motives. He would find out who she was and what her plans were, but first there were more important things to worry about.

Pettigrew would be at Hogwarts again with Harry and in the perfect position to strike, finishing what he had started. The fur on Sirius's back raised. He would stop Peter and avenge Lily and James. There would be no going back to Azkaban, only death.

* * *

Calrheane Elessar hid behind the side of a building and gripped her cloak closed. Sirius and Harry had seen her. She peered out, checking to see if they were still watching.

Harry was gone, but the large black dog stood in the road gazing into the darkness. Even from this distance she could see the crystal phial resting against his fur. She sucked in a breath as it glowed. Did it recognize her?

She ducked back behind the building. How was that possible? Had Ingwe or Galadriel known that would happen?

Calrheane shook her head, it didn't matter in the end; there was nothing she could do. He wore the phial now and she had to trust it.

Her hand brushed against the building and the rough brick scratched her skin. Her breath came out as a mist. The human side of her felt the cold, but she pushed it aside.

Something wasn't right. The stars were out and the light of Erandil shone high overhead. The familiar sight comforted her. While the world changed with each Age some parts remained steadfast.

In the distance her keen eyesight narrowed on a flickering star and then suddenly blinked out. Stars across the sky disappeared, as if their light was suddenly blocked.

A gust of wind blew back the hood of her cloak and she spat out a few strands of hair. What was going on? The ends of her cloak whipped about her.

She glanced at Sirius.

He was crouched in the middle of the road and his white teeth glowed in the dim light. Her sensitive ears picked out his growling over the wind. His tail was stretched out behind him and he stared in her direction, but at the road beside her.

A fog crept down the road, its gray haze darkening before her eyes. She stepped away from the safety of the wall.

This must not be happening. It was too soon.

The fog's tendrils reached out, slithering around light poles and cars. No light could be seen through the blackness, forming a barrier between her and the other side.

It was starting. Was she ready?

Frost covered the grass she was standing on and crunched when she shifted her weight. Whether she was ready or no longer mattered; Zirak was awakening.


	2. Old Memories and New Friends

Through Darkness and Light

Chapter 2

Old Memories

Staring across the sea of pointed black hats, Remus swallowed the nausea circling his stomach. The Great Hall shone with the school's colors, all four banners waving proudly on a magical wind.

The Sorting Hat's song rang through the hall. To Remus it was a wordless tune, carrying him to days long gone when he sat in those exact same tables.

The teachers laughed and lightly conversed with each other. He was ashamed to be sitting with them, his patched robes next to their pristine ones. He ran a hand through his brown hair and imagined how his distinct graying strands stood out in the light.

Dumbledore rose and held his hands for silence. "Welcome to another year at Hogwarts! I have a few things to say and one is indeed serious. I think I'll get it out of the way so you can enjoy the lovely feast…"

Remus adjusted his seat, concentrating on keeping his face neutral. Memories flooded him, ones that he used to treasure and now left a bitter taste. Maybe he shouldn't have come; he wasn't ready to face the past.

The seat next to him was empty. Who was supposed to be there?

"We are currently playing host to a few of Azkaban's guards, dementors, as some saw on the train," announced Dumbledore. "They are here on behalf of the Ministry of Magic. Please do nothing to provoke them; they don't understand excuses."

"On a much happier note," Dumbledore continued, "I am pleased to welcome three new teachers to our ranks this year."

Shocked expressions filled the student's faces at Dumbledore's announcement.

"First off, Professor Lupin, who has kindly consented to fill the post of Defense Against the Dark Arts."

Remus clasped his shaking hands behind his back as he bowed and sat down. His eyes were glued on Harry and the adoration shining off him as he clapped for Remus. He barely registered Dumbledore announcing Hagrid's job as Care of Magical Creatures.

The doors to the Great Hall creaked open, pulling him from his thoughts. Normally, this would have gone unnoticed, the small noise swallowed by the welcome feast. However, a wind swept through the hall, its touch like ice.

Several candles snuffed out and his breath materialized as a white mist. Unbidden images on the train came back, the dementor reaching into their compartment.

A woman appeared in the doorway, her brown hair falling past her shoulders.

His werewolf blood struggled, straining against his control. It needed to be free, to run before the light sought him.

_What was going on? What light_?

The students did not see the new arrival and the woman turned to leave.

Dumbledore spoke up, "Ah, yes. Professor Elessar, our newest addition to the curriculum."

Silence fell for a brief moment as students swiveled in their seats to see who Dumbledore referred to.

The woman hesitated and Dumbledore motioned her forward. The swoosh of her dress and flickering candles were the only sounds that Remus heard, at least until the students gasped.

A large timber wolf, gray fur flecked with white, trotted at her side. The wolf came to Elessar's thigh and glared at the students.

"Professor Elessar has kindly agreed to begin a new program at Hogwart's," Dumbledore explained above the mumbling voices. "She will be teaching _Study of Elvish Magic_."

Finally noticing the curved tip at the end of her ear, Remus's jaw dropped. What? This couldn't be possible.

Elessar gave no outward notice of the surprise she caused. Her face was blank, devoid of any emotion, leaving a cold feeling in the pit of his stomach. Was this how all elves appeared to humans, aloof and distant?

"As you can see," continued Dumbledore, "she is an elf. Her kind no longer exists in this world, but I assure you the stories of the Eldar are real."

Elessar took her seat next to Remus, her face pale in the candlelight. As soon as she did his blood surged, the werewolf tearing apart his control. He clutched the fabric of his pants.

"You are a _nauro_," Elessar stated.

"What?" he asked his voice hoarse.

Her eyes were intense and unwavering, a challenging gaze that left no secrets hidden. His soul was bare before her.

"I did not know the taint still existed," she said.

The werewolf howled. It felt her magic gathering.

In the distance there was a tall fortress, once white walls now blackened from evil. Darkness hung about this place, lingering in the very air. A beast stood upon the top-most tower, its eyes of fire staring at him.

_Come to me_, it called. _Follow the path._

No, he wanted to yell, but no sound came. He was frozen, paralyzed by the power of this being.

A hand rested on his shoulder and the werewolf fought harder.

"Do not give into the taint."

"_She is right,"_ another voice said, "_if you fall now, your spirit will be lost forever. There is much left you have to fight for."_

Light engulfed his senses and warmth spread throughout his body. He latched onto it. A guide, that's what he needed.

"Here, this will help."

Remus opened his eyes. A goblet of wine was held before him. "What…?"

"Trust me," Elessar smiled.

"_In this regard, she knows better than any other."_

"Huh?" he nearly spit out his wine when he saw the wolf sitting next to him. "Did you just talk to me?"

"_Of course it was me, who else would be speaking to your mind?" _the wolf asked. "_I am called Shra. And this rude elf, is Calrheane."_

"Rude? I have done nothing to warrant such a comment."

"_It was your fault the taint awakened. He would have been fine if you didn't sit near him."_

"I would have warned Dumbledore if I had known, but he said nothing of this."

"Really," Remus cut in before they could go on, "it's fine. I was caught off guard, that's all. Though, I don't exactly know what happened."

The smile on Calrheane's face faded. "You saw something didn't you? A place of darkness and evil."

"How did you…"

_"It was known as Tol-in-Gaurhoth, the Isle of Werewolves. It has long since been destroyed, but its power still exists."_

"Shra," Calrheane said, in a low tone.

"Y_ou are right. This is a conversation best left for another time. Perhaps when there are fewer ears."_

Remus opened his mouth, but only shook his head. What was going on?

The werewolf stirred within him even now, a restless presence whose entire focus was on the elf next to him.

"I have never felt this way," he admitted.

"That is unsurprising," Calrheane said. "The taint is from the ancient world, it is natural that you would react to me."

"I see."

His impulses screamed that he ask her more, the lost knowledge clearly something she knew about. How many sleepless nights had he spent pondering over the werewolf blood?

Now the answers were there in front of him. Yet, he said nothing. He realized a part of him didn't want to know. The look on her face when she called him a _nauro_ sent a chill through him, reaching to his soul.

Calrheane's hands shook when she reached for her own goblet. She seemed to have forgotten him and his brief lapse, now her attention was on all the students staring at her.

"Am I different that you would look at me so?"

Remus blushed. "I apologize, that was rude of me."

"Do not concern yourself."

Obviously, they didn't have a great start, but he had a feeling it had nothing to do with what he was. It seemed there was something else bothering her, a deeper hurt that made her appear nervous.

"Please," he whispered, "your actions a moment ago seemed so human; it just caught me off guard."

Her eyes widened. Then the expression was gone and her indifferent appearance was back.

He knew how she felt, out of place and alone. Perhaps it was that understanding which made him try again to speak with her.

"I hope I don't appear rude, but I'm shocked to see you. I was unaware that elves were allowed to return to this world."

Calrheane was silent, glancing at the gathered students. "You know of the history, I am impressed."

"Only a little, most has been lost."

"I dwelled with my kin in the Undying lands, but it was not my home."

From the way it sounded, she hadn't left on the best of terms. He was drawn by her words, wondering why an elf would not find peace in paradise. It was said that the Vala, god-like beings who created this world, called the elves back from the mortal world. The reasons why had been forgotten.

"Many still fear the past," she continued. "There are those who do not wish for me to be here."

"I think," he said slowly, "it's wise to hold some fear of the past. Entire civilizations can be destroyed by truths while other can give insight into the future."

Calrheane nodded. "The past binds all, some more than others."

"Yes, it does."

"Like yours."

His breath caught in his throat. She had no right.

"I referred to your blood," Calrheane said, "the darkness that is a part of you."

He didn't care; what she said hit too close to home. Perhaps it was his turn to pry a little.

"Speaking of the past," Remus commented, "were you born in this world or in Valinor?"

The corners of her mouth pulled back in a tight line. "I was one of the last to leave, sailing with my father's close friends, Legolas Greenleaf and Gimli the dwarf."

There was sadness in her voice and he was drawn to that. Perhaps when they had first looked at each other they had seen the truth, both running from the past.

"You must have lived for a long time. I must say, you're looking good."

"I do not age."

Remus smiled. "Never mind, I was thinking from a human viewpoint."

"I see."

It was interesting to see the gaps between their cultures, something that he hadn't been expecting.

The feast passed in whirl of orange streamers and laughter. His smile did not waver and he listened to the conversations around him. How long had it been since he'd felt this at ease?

"I do not wish to inconvenience you," Calrheane said after a time, "but would you show me the grounds?"

Remus fumbled with his fork. "Of course, but why would you ask me?"

"Should I not have?"

"It's just that," he sighed and whispered, "my condition. Even now, _it's _not pleased to be near you."

"To overcome his power means to fight. Can you think of no better way?"

"I…"

"_He means," _Shra said from underneath the table, "_that he'd love to spend time with us. After all, I'm great company."_

Calrheane huffed. "You? Not that I have seen."

"_That's because I'm with you."_

"If this is a problem," she said to Remus, "I can inquire from another."

"No," he said hastily. "It's fine; simply something I'm not used too."

A shadow passed over the table and they both looked up.

The sight of Snape smiling caused the bile in Remus's stomach to rise up his throat. Even the way Snape moved appeared sleazy; it's no wonder why he'd been such a git growing up.

Snape offered her his hand. "I see Dumbledore has succeeded in any adding another to the staff. I'm charmed to meet you. Severus Snape. It is such an honor to have one of your status teaching at Hogwarts."

She nodded though did not speak.

Snape leaned down and planted a kiss on her fingers. "If you ever need anything, please, feel free to stop by and see me."

What was going on? All night Snape had glared at her and now he was trying to make friends?

"If the need arises I shall take your offer." She placed her offended hand on her lap, gripping the other over it.

"Of course," he replied and faced Remus. "Lupin, I see you've managed to get yourself a job."

Snape didn't try to hide the sneer in his voice or push down his curling lips that looked more like a snarl than a smile.

"Yes, I was rather fortunate. This job turned up rather unexpectedly, it was kind of Dumbledore to think of me."

Snape glared, his hair shining from all the candlelight. Twelve years had gone by and the loathing still remained.

It was nice to see some things didn't change.


	3. Facing Yourself

Through Darkness and Light

Chapter 3

Facing Yourself

Calrheane shut the door and leaned against it. The darkness was a welcome relief. Her eyes adjusted to the dim light and located the single piece of luggage in the center of room.

"_You survived._"

"That is a matter of opinion."

She sighed, enjoying the cool air brushing against her flush skin.

"A headache," she said more to herself than the wolf inspecting the room, "when was the last time I had one?"

"_I would not know_." Shra circled the small lounge and sniffed the air.

"No, I suppose not."

Her eyes narrowed and realization dawned on her. "Elves do not get headaches."

"_You're not an elf_."

Part of her was grateful for those words while another part was angered. She would not be in this situation if not for them.

"Nor am I human."

The wolf's gold eyes bore into her own and once again she sensed Shra's uncanny wisdom. "_I am Shra, you are Calrheane. You just are."_

She smirked. "Perhaps that is the simplest explanation."

"_Simple? Hardly. You are not simple_."

"And neither are you, my friend."

"_There is a letter here."_ Shra reached onto a small table and grabbed the white envelope. She trotted over and Calrheane took it from her.

"_What does it say? Have they already relieved you of your position?"_

"That may not be far from the truth."

"_Who's it from?"_

Calrheane read the letter, her stomach churning. What was this feeling?

"_Calrheane Elessar,_

_It is requested that you appear at the Ministry of Magic on September the 20th for a full evaluation. In accordance with our laws, your case will be put forth to the Council questioning forth your rights within the wizarding world as a non-human…"_

The letter went on, but she crumbled it and let it fall. Her ears picked heard the small thump when it hit the ground.

"_That may have been important you know."_

"I care not."

"_I don't blame you either."_ Shra snorted. _"Who do they think they are? A 'non-human?' It was my understanding that elves came before mortals anyway. And to think the laws of Men could apply to you or me."_

"They fear me," she whispered. After all these years she should have grown accustomed to this; how naïve of her to believe differently.

"_It is only natural to fear what one does not understand. You of all should know this."_

"This is not unexpected," she said steering from the subject. "Dumbledore had been expecting as much."

"_Then you will go?"_

"I have little say in the matter. It is required."

"_If you knew this would occur, then I leave you to it."_

Calrheane's fingers trailed down the tip of her ear. Such a small thing; hardly noticeable if she let her hair down. It was the only evident difference between her and mortals.

Yet, it was not her ears that dictated this life, but her soul. To think that the Vala would allow the rules separating the two races to be broken, and for what?

"What am I doing here?"

"_You know as well as I_."

Yes, to slip away would be easy; to return those days when she wandered in silence. Was it worth the hurt to try again?

"I shall never belong."

"_And yet here you are trying_."

"Perhaps I am a fool."

"_A fool is nothing more than one with foolish emotions after all_."

"Human emotions," she said aloud without realizing she had.

"_And if you were a fool then you would have died in your family's time, just as you wanted. The Dannen would have killed you." _

Her jaw clenched and she pushed away from the door, refusing to acknowledge the shame she felt at Shra's words.

"Who are you to say such things to me? Is it wrong to wish to live with your family?"

"_Why must you dwell on what cannot be changed? You were born different because you are needed. Just as you need me_."

"I need no one."

"_What about your friend, the one that traveled with you in Middle-Earth_?"

Calrheane froze and her heart constricted, nails digging into her palms. The serene facade she developed living among elves never held around Shra.

"You have no right."

"_Do not pretend. As few as they were, there were those who called you 'companion.' Why do push them aside and allow anger to rule you?"_

Those words sought the place where her memories remained, hidden deep within her consciousness.

"You know not of what you speak."

"_I know enough. Why do you fear this?_"

"I choose not to remember. This does not mean I am afraid."

"_I see no difference. If you don't fear, why desire to forget? Why must you forget him_?"

"He is better left forgotten."

The sorrow in his blue eyes when she told him her decision, knowing that they would never meet again in this life or the next; even now she still ran.

"_I understand that it's painful, but is it not more painful to be alone_?"

"To be alone is all I know."

"_Then he and I have failed_."

"Why do you care? Why have you followed me? Everyone else was more than content to leave me be."

"_You need me," _Shra replied impassive to Calrheane's anger._ "Why now of all times do you demand to know?"_

"Because everything has changed."

Shra shook her head, the white hairs shining a golden color from the torch's light. "_Nothing has changed except that you are no longer able to flee. Whether it was your desire or not, you cannot change the path set before you_."

There was something different in Shra's words, an emotion that called to Calrheane and it was one that mirrored her own. Loneliness? Those eyes regarded her with an intensity that left her knees shaking.

Calrheane's shoulders slumped and she slid to the floor, her dress fanning out on the ground. Minutes passed by, the only sound coming from the flickering flame in the corner.

"After all these years I can still see the lords and ladies of my father's court glaring at me as," she whispered. "I was too young to understand the resentment and contempt in their eyes."

The truth escaped and it was too late to take them back. From the scullery boys to those of noble blood, all humans feared her. The elf who should have been born a human.

"I suppose I am a fool, the outcome will be the same."

She stroked Shra's head, her fingers running through the fur that was coarse and soft at the same time.

There were issues left unsaid between them, but it didn't matter. For in these moments they were kindred spirits. As much as Calrheane denied it otherwise, she was thankful for Shra.

The moon passed over the window, its white light gracing the small room before continuing on its nightly course.

Unbidden, thoughts of Remus surfaced. A _nauro_ alive in this time; how had she missed their presence? Was she so blinded by her path that she hadn't seen what was before her?

"_Do you think it's wise to go through with this_?" Shra asked, pulling Calrheane from her thoughts.

"You mean Zirak?"

"_Yes. They will be in danger now with you here. Is that what you want?_"

"This school is a target whether or not I'm here. I still have to try."

"_Try to protect them or try to remember what it means to be human_?"

"How can I remember something that I've never been?" For once there was no anger in Calrheane's voice just weariness that seemed to settle around her like a blanket.

"_Is that entirely true? You grew up among elves and humans. You are both_."

"And both rejected me."

Shra nudged Calrheane in her stomach. "_If you believed that then you would not be here."_

She smiled. Tonight Shra was relentless and perhaps that was the correct approach.

"I can feel him. For all these years I have trained and now the moment is at hand and there's nothing I can. The more imminent threat is these human children."

"_I do not envy you_."

"No, of course not, you were the one cowering underneath the table the whole time."

"_I haven't the faintest idea what you're talking about. I was tired_."

"Of course."

The light from the torch burned low and the room darkened. Calrheane's eyes traveled to the large, rectangular box resting on a table, the ends of it hanging off the edge. Her smile fell.

As much as she desired her life to have turned out differently, she was here now with only a wolf to share her burdens. The thought was bittersweet, and yet she was hoping to fit into a world that had no place for her.

"It is easier to forget happiness knowing what I must face. But you are right; I will never forget, just as I will never be able to rid myself of you."

Shra snorted before pulling her lips back to reveal white canines. "_It has taken you long enough to realize that_."

* * *

"Harold, dear, is that a dog reading a newspaper?"

Sirius jerked his head in the direction the female voice.

An old couple peered intently at him, mothball covered robes hanging off thin shoulders. The man adjusted his owl-eyed glasses.

"Martha, that's absurd. Dogs don't read newspapers, the poor fellar was probably lookin' for a nice dinner."

Instinct told Sirius to run while the logical part of him countered that if he acted the part he wouldn't look suspicious. He turned his body in hopes that they wouldn't see the crystal phial that stood out as clear as day against his black fur.

_Act like a dog_, he thought.

The woman shook her head and clutched the opening of her magenta cloak. "I could have sworn the dog turned the page with his paw."

"No, no you must have imagined it my dear." He patted her hand and glanced back at Sirius. "See, he's just curious is all."

The man rubbed his charcoal-colored whiskers thoughtfully. "Of course, he could he be magical. Though I don't remember any dogs in these parts that could read a newspaper, maybe we should see if he's lost?"

"You mean speak with him? I guess he might understand us if he can read a newspaper."

Well that was enough for Sirius. His whole mission was to stay out of sight not attracting any attention, so what did he go and do? Attract attention.

The couple continued to debate whether or not they should leave him alone, so Sirius made up the choice for them. He snatched the newspaper and dashed into the alley.

Without glancing back he crawled under a chain-link fence. Sections of the paper tore off.

_Damn_! This day was just not going well for him.

The apartments loomed above him on both sides, their sizes indicating that he was heading toward the city. Saliva dripped from his mouth and soaked the paper, knowing that the words were smudging.

He spat out the newspaper and flattened it with his paw, mindful of the wet spots.

On the front page in bright flashing letters the _Daily Prophet_ read, "Half-Elf to teach at Hogwarts!"

He snorted. They were just myths, legends that parents told to their children for bedtime stories. At least they had been until she had shown up. And why the hell, out of her long immortal life, did she have to show up now?

He scanned the article and found where he'd left off when he was interrupted. _'Ministry officials have not yet made any official comments on the sudden appearance of the elf, one of the Eldar thought to have left this world thousands of years ago. Reporters have been owling Hogwarts ever since Headmaster Albus Dumbledore announced the new teaching curriculum, but as of this point no interview has been granted. _

_Mrs. Elba Flemming whose son is a 3rd year at Hogwarts, commented, "This truly is marvelous. I don't really mind or care much why she's here; just imagine what she can tell us about the past. Perhaps she can finally give our history closure." _

_Not everyone agreed with this optimistic opinion as Mr. Alexander Wright explained, "The past is meant to stay in the past. No good will come of digging it up." _

_Either way you look at it, Professor Calrheane Elessar has caused quite an uproar with many demanding to know who she is and where she came from. Where did the elves go and why did they leave? And of course, the all important question, did Professor Elessar bring back with her the key to immortality?'_

Yeah right, like she was about to offer insight into immortality. Absolutely ridiculous; then again he shouldn't be surprised that the _Prophet_ was reporting that kind of nonsense.

As interesting as this new arrival was, it now complicated his situation even more.

How did one sneak by an elf? Rumor said she had the ability to walk through walls and talk to animals. Yet that was the problem; no one knew what she could do.

In the end, none of it mattered. Elf or not, he was going to Hogwarts.

Ever since that night in the alleyway, he hadn't been able to get the image of Harry out of his head.

James would still be around if it hadn't been for him. Everything he fought for had come crashing down when he saw their bodies. He couldn't even save the one good thing he had in his life, James.

_Enough!_ This would get him no where.

Sirius scratched his stomach with his hind leg. Damn fleas. This was the one part he hated most, and for cryin' out loud it wasn't like he had much meat on him to begin with!

Sirius peered out from behind the dustbin, he didn't know why but that itch was back. Something felt off, as if suddenly the world had grown dim.

The alley grew darker, following the ascent of the sun. This reminded him of that night when Harry had runaway.

Sirius shivered remembering the cold that tightened around his heart, forcing him to watch as veins of ice traveled down the pavement towards him. All those years fighting against Voldemort, he knew what dark magic felt like. That mist was something else entirely.

Honestly, the wizard couple from earlier must have gotten to him. Now he was being paranoid about an evil fog sneaking up on him.

Sirius turned to the third page of the newspaper.

His humor didn't lighten the mood, and instead made it worse. He sighed; there was no sense worrying about things he had no control over.

No matter what happened, he would be ready. After all, everything he did, he did for Harry. Sirius lifted his head and caught side of a few dim stars in the darkening sky.

_And of course, for you James_.


	4. Teaching Duties

Chapter 4

Teaching Duties

Harry clutched his wand, hidden in the folds of his robe. He had a curse in his mouth ready to fire.

"Harry," Hermione hissed, "just ignore them."

Easy for her to say; she wasn't the one Malfoy was impersonating.

As if he were in a drama, Malfoy placed one arm above his head and pretended to swoon. Crabbe, Goyle and the other Slytherins laughed with hands on their stomachs.

"You're right." Harry released his grip on the wand, "they're not worth it."

Ron's eyebrows rose. "What are you talking about? This has gone on long enough! And after all the trouble he's got Hagrid into, we need to blast him!"

"No," Hermione shook her head, "don't let them win. Besides, we've got enough to worry about."

"Hey, Potter," Malfoy called, "watch your back around the elf, I've heard she's worse than the dementors."

Tugging on his arm, Hermione dragged him down the hall. "Come on, we have to hurry or we'll be late."

"Yeah."

He wasn't exactly looking forward to going to Elvish Studies, especially with all the rumors. Several students said that she just stared at them, others claimed she spoke in elvish the entire time.

The one thing they all seemed to agree upon was that she had a way of unnerving people with just one look.

"There's no way her class could compare to Professor Lupin's." Ron frowned, "I just hope it isn't as bad as everyone's been saying."

"Ginny liked her," answered Harry. "She went to visit Elessar the other day."

"Hmph." Brown hair fanned out behind Hermione as she stormed off.

"What's her problem?"

Harry shrugged. Ever since that first day Hermione's hackles rose whenever Professor Elessar was mentioned. It was strange; in fact very un-Hermione like. She respected teachers, yet when it came to Elessar she was on the offensive.

"Let's go."

They caught up with Hermione and mumbled, "Should have been allowed to drop the class. Have enough on my hands as it is."

"Hey, Hermione," Ron asked, "what's the big deal anyway? You were the one who was supposed to be looking forward to this class."

"I already told you," she snapped.

Conspiracies were only believable when there were facts backing them up. Sure Elessar's arrival and Black's escape were timed perfectly, but that could just be a coincidence. Plus there were plenty of other people connected to ancient magic. Black could have gotten his crystal phial from anyone.

"Look, I'm sure it won't be that bad. Besides, she might let something slip."

Hermione glared and tucked a piece of hair behind an ear. She was probably upset that he gave her a logical argument, one that she couldn't refute.

Layers of dust covered the windowsills in this hallway and the glass looked like it could use a good scrubbing. Voices murmured further down the corridor.

Hermione shot Harry a questioning look.

He shrugged, not understanding it either. They were running late, thanks to Malfoy; everyone else _should_ be in class. He turned the corner and nearly ran into Hermione.

"What's going on?"

All their classmates stood around the intricately carved doors. Most had their hands in their pockets, eyes glued to the ground.

Neville's body was pressed against the wall and his eyes darted back and forth.

Hermione, with her usual tactfulness, blurted, "What's wrong? Won't the door open?"

Lavender and Parvati frowned, but remained silent.

All of the students stared at them until finally Neville squeaked out, "I can't go in first."

"Ridiculous."

Hermione huffed and pushed the doors open. She stomped in, not even checking to see if anyone followed her.

The classroom wasn't anything special; in fact, it appeared quite ordinary with regular desks and chairs. Granted, there was a large wolf lounging in front of the teacher's desk, but other than that it was normal.

Movement shifted next to the window and Harry lurched back, knocking into someone. Professor Elessar stood near the window, her brown hair catching in the rays of sunlight. How could he have missed seeing her?

The student Harry hit, which turned out to be Dean, pushed Harry. "What are you waiting for?"

"Sorry."

Hermione strode to the front and dropped her books onto the table. The loud thump jolted Harry out of his temporary paralysis and he followed after her.

Elessar focused on Hermione, who was placing her blank parchments and inkbottle on the desk in calm, methodical movements. For several heartbeats Elessar stared at Hermione before turning to Harry.

The world dimmed. All he saw was the pair of brown eyes, sorting through him layer by layer. His heart constricted and his mind repeated, '_look away_.' He was suspended in time, glancing into another world.

"So you came in," Professor Elessar said, breaking her gaze on Harry. "My earlier class took much longer."

Even though Harry was in the front, he heard the shuffling of books, his classmates most likely doing everything they could to avoid looking at her. Hermione apparently had a different idea. Instead of cowering she held her head high with her arms out in front of her, almost like she was challenging Elessar.

"And," Elessar continued, "they were Gryffindor's; fifth years."

The tension eased slightly. One thing was sure, after class he needed to have a talk with Fred and George. He looked at Ron who gave him a lopsided smile.

Elessar's attention shifted to the wolf lying on the floor. The wolf regarded Elessar and a deep rumble echoed in the room.

A smile teased at the corners of her mouth. She looked at each student in turn, as if searching for some hidden information. "I cannot teach you. It would be useless."

"And why not?" Hermione asked. "Is it because we're _human_?"

"Yes, and also unfocused."

His skin tingled and blood rushed to his face.

Hermione shot up in her seat. "How dare you talk to us like that? Just because you're some elf doesn't mean you can treat us like we're incompetent!"

"Hermione, stop it," Harry said.

"You know nothing about us, especially what we can or can't do." She swatted Harry with her hands until he finally yanked her down.

Elessar's expression didn't change. "You cannot learn if you are not focused."

Hermione squirmed under the watchful elf's eyes but retained the stubborn tilt of her chin. A few wisps of hair stuck to her cheeks and the Gryffindor tie she wore was askew.

"I will not begin teaching my magic for none of you are focused."

Hermione mumbled, "Great, I'll just leave. Absurd class anyway."

His grip on her tightened. There was no way he was about to let her leave; this class was required whether she liked it or not.

"Then why are we here wasting our time if you won't teach us?" asked Seamus.

"Time is never wasted. I will not teach you magic today, but that does not mean you shall not learn."

Regaining control of his emotions, Harry asked, "So what are we going to learn?"

"Whatever you wish."

All right, if that wasn't an open-ended statement, he didn't know what was. With that unreadable face, he hadn't the faintest idea what Elessar was thinking.

"Could you be any vaguer?" Hermione snapped.

"Possibly," Elessar said with a smile. "Questions. You cannot focus because you have too many questions. You may ask them."

From the corner of his eye, he watched Hermione. The way her mouth pinched together and her eyes narrowed, he'd learned over the past two years to read those subtle signs. Now was not the time to ask about Black, why couldn't she just get it?

The whispering ceased and Harry glanced back to see what caused the change. Neville's hand was in the air, shaking so badly Harry could see it from where he was sitting.

"Yes, Neville?"

The color bleached from his face, "How, how did you know my name?"

"You told me."

"No, I didn't Professor," Neville stammered.

"That's right," spoke up Dean, "he was waiting outside with the rest of us and never once said anything."

"He never spoke his name, but he still told me."

"How in the world did you know his name without him saying anything? That's completely absurd," Hermione said.

Once again Elessar gave no reaction to Hermione's rude behavior, just shrugging it off as she answered the question. "The heart of elvish magic is drawn from the spiritual world. Simply, your spirit told me your name, Neville."

Ron snorted. "How can a spirit talk? I mean, besides ghosts."

"The spirit I speak of is not a ghost. Every being is connected to the spiritual world and leaves an imprint of itself on the physical one." She waved her hand before another question could be asked. "We shall come back to this. Neville has a question."

"Uh, right," Neville squeaked. "Well, I was wondering about your wolf."

The wolf's eyes swept across the room and landed on Neville. Harry wasn't sure who had the more intimating gaze, the wolf or the Elf.

"This is Shra, my companion." Elessar held her hand out, "_Á tulë síno, Shra. Merir omenta le_."

Shra stretched her legs, spreading each of her toes apart much like a cat waking up from a nap, and trotted over to Elessar's side.

The dam seemed to break and all the students spoke at once. "What did you say to her?"

"How can she understand you?"

"Can we learn to talk to animals?" The volume increased as each tried to get their question heard.

Elessar's mask cracked at the edges, allowing Harry to see bewilderment cross her features before smoothing itself back.

"I asked Shra to come here and that you desired to meet her."

"What kind of language was that?" asked Seamus.

"Quenya, the oldest form of elvish. It will enable you to use elven magic."

Shra bumped into Elessar's side, the force causing her to step back.

"I am not ignoring you."

For some reason, Harry couldn't help smiling. Elessar didn't seem the type to smile often or laugh and her companion was a playful wolf. The contrasting personalities were quite funny.

Shra snorted and headed towards the students, clearly displeased. The wolf approached Hermione and tilted her head to the side.

"You are safe. She will not bring you harm."

With only a slight hesitance, Hermione scratched Shra behind the ears who eagerly leaned into her hands.

"So how can we use this magic?" Harry asked, deciding to bring the conversation back to what the class. "We're not elves. Doesn't that defeat the purpose of learning elvish magic?"

"No, you're not," Elessar replied. "Let us change the question, where does your own magic come from?"

Silence answered her.

"You've been in this school for three years and have not wondered this?"

Harry thought for a moment, asking himself that same question. Where did they get their magic from? Why was it that some were extraordinarily gifted and others couldn't touch it?

He remembered Hermione had once tried to explain the difference between Muggles and wizards with a definition from, "_Everything You Wanted_ _to Know about the Wizarding World_." As far as Harry was concerned the book managed to completely avoid the question, stating something about having magical essence.

Hermione had eventually admitted that she didn't know what the book was talking about. However, she did tell them this topic was one of the biggest controversies in the wizarding world. No one brought it up or talked about it, like they were afraid to know the real answer.

"Well, our wands," answered Dean.

Elessar took Harry's wand from his desk. "Your world's existence and the division between mortals, were created because of wands?"

She inspected his wand before looking at the class. "Wands are simply a vessel, a tool that mortal magic requires to help focus the caster's spirit. What would happen if I gave your wand to a non-magical person?"

"It wouldn't matter," Lavender said, "they still couldn't use magic."

"So then why can you?"

What made Harry different from Dudley? That's when it hit him. Such a simple question with just a simple answer.

"We were born with magic."

Hermione's head jerked towards him. He didn't know if she was upset that he got involved in Elessar's conversation or that he figured out the answer before she did.

"Exactly, Harry. You each have a gift that can never be taken away. The heart of your magic is no different from mine, both drawing their power from the spiritual world."

She held Harry's wand out to him and he retrieved it, careful not to look in her eyes.

The students chattered, everyone attempting to talk at once.

What did this mean for their world?

The truth was adults feared magic's origin. They didn't want to know why they were different than Muggles; living in ignorance allowed them the luxury of looking down on those less fortunate.

"That still doesn't explain why we can be taught," Hermione said loudly.

Professor Elessar gave no indication if she was angry or upset. The crack in her mask he had seen earlier was back, but this time in her eyes. They were intense as always yet it appeared there was also confusion.

"No, it doesn't," Elessar answered quietly. "Speak with me after class, Hermione. I know there is something you wish to ask me."

Black, it had to be about Black. Were the rumors true? Could Elessar read people's minds?

"You may have heard the belief that everything in the physical world is mirrored on the spiritual plane," Elessar explained. "Whether it's a flame or a small plant, everything has a spirit. Without realizing it, your magic draws from that power."

"You're kidding? I've never heard of anything like that before." Ron said.

"Then I shall show you."

There was patience in her tone, something that Harry hadn't been expecting. After all she was an immortal; it was only natural for her to have patience since she's lived so long.

Elessar's voice deepened, echoing throughout the classroom, "_Antaura súlimë, á lasta nye. Á quata sina sambë as ómalya_."

Something tickled Harry's cheek and he realized it was Hermione's hair. Glancing at the windows he saw that they were shut, so then where was this breeze coming from?

Hermione gasped and Harry instinctively grabbed his wand. A gale blasted his face. The force behind it was so strong and he held his glasses in fear of them flying off.

What was going on?

The wind howled, vibrating the room as if it were a small-scale earthquake. Papers swirled in the vortex and several were snatched up from Elessar's desk. Hermione dashed for her parchments, catching them just in time.

"_Ferëa_."

The wind seized completely. Harry straightened his hair down while Hermione did the same.

"This is elven magic, the ancestor to your magic," Elessar stated. "What is granted in the _fëa_ world, also affects the physical one."

"That was amazing," exclaimed Seamus.

"How did you do that?"

Hermione jumped in, "Let me get this straight, our magic evolved from elf magic? That's preposterous!"

"Well why?" Ron questioned. "I mean, it makes sense so far."

Swiveling around in her chair, Hermione faced Ron. "Elves and humans weren't the greatest of friends; in fact the books made it quite clear that humans didn't trust the elves. And second, I hardly believe that elves would share their secrets with humans, especially about magic."

"That is true, and it isn't. Throughout the ages elves and men fought side-by-side. Due to those alliances you now live free without the shadows covering this world."

"Why would elves go through so much trouble to teach us _humans_ magic?" Hermione shot back.

Elessar's lips were in a tight line, the sole expression of her feelings. "The only way for you to fully understand is to understand the world as it was back in those days. The relationship between the two races is complicated, and in truth this hasn't changed."

"One of the few books that talk about magic's origin mentioned something about a 'magical essence' and described that as the reason why we can use magic as opposed to Muggles," Harry stated.

"I fear that is all the truth that remains in this world. The rest has been lost to time. What if I were to tell you that the reason you can use magic was because of elven blood?"

"Elves haven't existed for thousands of years so any blood would have thinned out. Besides, my parents are Muggles, but I'm witch," Hermione said. "If what your saying is true then they should be able to use magic."

"The magic of Men evolved from what the elves taught, but the two are not the same. Hermione, your parents cannot use mortal magic, but they can be taught to use mine."

"Do you have any idea of the consequences if anyone were to find out what you just told us?" Hermione stuttered. "You simply _can't_ talk about this. The Ministry would be in an uproar!"

"Whether I displease those in power matters little to me. To understand who you are and those who are non-magical, if there is to be peace, this must be accepted."

"So we're really not that different? I mean us and Muggles?" asked Hermione quietly.

"That is correct."

Dean snorted. "I bet your Slytherin classes took this well." His comment seemed to break the tension. Several students giggled and many had smirks on their faces.

"Hey!" Ron yelled. "We could use elven magic playing Quidditch! You know, like to make the wind pick up right as the other team's about to catch the snitch?"

"I'm not sure." Professor Elessar's forehead crinkled. "What is Quidditch?"

"What?" Ron jumped out of his seat and waved a finger at her. "Where have you been, underneath a rock? Everyone knows about Quidditch!"

Elessar shifted under the scrutinizing stares of her students. "I've _heard_ it mentioned before. Why, don't you tell me about?"

When it came to Quidditch, neither Ron nor Harry needed to be asked twice. "It's a great game!"

The students went on telling her about the rules and catching the snitch.

Elessar's face was animated, going wide when Ron simulated Harry diving low to avoid a bludger and wincing when he broke his arm. Completely opposite from what they'd seen so far, no longer hiding emotions. Maybe she wasn't so bad and simply not used to being around humans.

Unfortunately the class had to end at some point.

"If you have any questions, come see me."

Harry leaned over to Ron, "What do you think?"

"I can't believe that she's never heard of Quidditch before. She's teaching wizards, how could she not know about it?"

"Oh honestly, Ronald," Hermione said, "he was obviously talking about the earlier conversation."

"Oh."

She turned to Harry and snapped, "And why didn't you want me to ask her about Black?"

"Isn't that _obvious_?" Ron asked sarcastically, shoving her words back at her. "That's not the kind of question to put her on the spot with."

"I don't care. I'm going to talk to her."

This was getting out of hand. The only other time Harry had seen Hermione this uptight was when she was studying for their exams.

"Hermione, are you sure that's a good idea?"

"Why not? She told me to come ask her after class."

"Accusing a teacher about having connections to an escaped convict doesn't seem like the brightest of ideas."

"Doesn't matter, Harry, she's going to do it anyway. Besides, Elessar's looking right at us."

Hermione's face turned white and she whipped her head around.

Elessar stood there regarding them with a cool expression.

Hermione's shock lasted for only a second before she stomped around the table towards Elessar. "Excuse me, Professor Elessar..."

"You wanted to know about Sirius Black."

"What? But how did you know?"

"I heard you. The other day in the hallway you were speaking of him."

This was exactly what Harry had wanted to avoid. "We didn't mean to say that you were in league with Black –"

"We've heard of this crystal phial that Black wears," Hermione cut in, "and were wondering if you knew anything about it. Dumbledore said it was ancient."

"I have heard many speak of this. I would not know if it was 'ancient' magic without examining it, but if Dumbledore believes so then I will defer to him."

Satisfied with the answer Harry was about to turn away when Hermione gripped his arm, digging into his thin robe.

"Not only can't he take this phial off, it's believed You-Know-Who gave it to him."

"Hey Hermione, you've never been afraid to say his name bef –"

Hermione shot Ron a look, in which he promptly shut his mouth and his face turned a dark shade of red.

Elessar's eyebrows narrowed.

Harry focused on Shra who sat patiently at Elessar's side, her lips pulled back in what he assumed was a smile.

"Again, I do not know, Hermione. This phial, from what I've heard, doesn't feel like something Voldemort would have created."

"You said his name," whispered Ron.

"Why shouldn't I have?"

"We shouldn't have to explain it since you've supposedly been in the wizarding world for years," shot Hermione.

Elessar waved her hand. "You misunderstood. I was asking why I should be afraid to say his name."

Why should Elessar be afraid? He had more reason to be afraid of Voldemort and yet he wasn't.

"Well, I guess you shouldn't," Harry said after a while. "You are an elf after all."

Elessar turned to Harry. "There are worse beings than Voldemort. Perhaps, as far as mortals go, none could carry more darkness, but it's the actual darkness you have to worry about."

A chill passed through his body. Something stirred as he looked at her. She knew so much, had seen so much. What did that mean, this uneasiness that he saw clearly in her eyes?

Ron's thoughts must not have been much different than Harry's because he asked, "What do you mean by darkness?"

Elessar face changed to one of surprise. "Just stories of a forgotten Age."

Harry didn't believe that one bit and shared a knowing look with Ron and Hermione.

Elessar gathered several papers that had fallen on the floor. Without saying anything, he bent down to help.

Most were written in some strange language, the way the words flowed together was actually quite beautiful. The thought shocked him; strange to think of words as beautiful.

"Thank you," Elessar said and took the papers from him.

"Uh, see you later Professor." Harry followed Hermione, who looked at Elessar for a brief moment.

There were so many thoughts zipping through his mind as he processed everything they had learned. All this about them having elven blood and their powers evolving from elven magic, it was too much.

"Come on stop moping Hermione," Ron said. "This is probably the most interesting class we have besides Lupin's."

"You know Hermione, it could be worse. Elessar could have been another Trelawney," Harry interjected.

"Anyone's better than Trelawney," she answered.

* * *

Light filtered through a nearby window, illuminating small particles of dust. Memories of the students' laughter and voices echoed in the now silent room, the past two hours were engraved into the very walls. 

Calrheane slid into her chair, the black cushion absorbing her body.

Shra trotted over, nails scraping against the stone floor. She rubbed her head against Calrheane's leg, the slight nudge bringing the comfort she needed.

"You were right. I did it."

She stroked Shra's head and froze when she noticed her hand shaking. She had been nervous. She was an elf; she wasn't supposed to be nervous. What did this mean?

"_You are also human_."

Calrheane shook her head, unable to believe what she was seeing. Was it finally happening? Could he have been right?

"I'm sure it wasn't that bad," said a voice behind her.

She snatched her hand down, clutching it in her lap.

Remus leaned against the doorway. His hands were tucked in brown suit pockets and he regarded her with an amused expression. The robes hung off his shoulders, billowing out behind him.

Shra leapt towards him, her tail thrashing about as she greeted him.

"Remus."

There was a twinge in her heart, small actually to the point where she almost didn't register it, as she watched Shra's friendly demeanor with Remus.

"Calrheane," he answered her with a nod. "I thought I would come by to see how you were doing."

The smile he gave her was surprising; nothing like the forlorn face when she first met him. His gray hairs stood out more in the sunlight, heightening the depth to his face rather than retracting from it.

"I am well. How are you faring?"

Remus chuckled though she didn't understand why.

"I haven't felt this good in a long time." He grabbed a chair and sat across from her. He scratched behind Shra's ears and she tilted her head to give him easier access.

The change in Shra's attitude amazed her. Alone with Calrheane there was always seriousness, never any of these grins. Lately, there was a mischievous glint, a playful side that had everything to do with the people Shra was around.

"You're that nervous?"

"I am unsure what you refer to."

"Your expression a moment ago, it reminded me how I felt before my first class."

"Nervous? It is difficult for me to recognize this feeling and many others."

For whatever reason, she didn't hear Remus waiting at the door and yet the moment his hand stopped brushing Shra's fur, she knew.

"I see."

Silence stretched out between them as if the room was shrouded in a thick blanket that blocked out all noise.

"Well, maybe I can help. Many people use the term 'butterflies in your stomach' when they're feeling nervous. You're anxious and fidgety. You don't know whether to stay or run the other way."

The sincerity in his voice surprised her. There was no judgement or condescending tone, just a simple statement.

"I know little of these emotions."

"The night we first met, one of the many things I felt was nervous. I think you were nervous too."

Should she be happy that she felt this emotion at such a normal occurrence? Was she connecting with the hidden, mortal part of her soul?

Remus relaxed in his chair. "I could be wrong of course, but there were times when it looked like you were ready to run. You're not used to big crowds are you?"

"I never had much experience."

His face appeared cheerful and a smile tugged on his lips, yet his voice spoke of a deeper hurt. "I tend to like smaller groups myself."

"As a child, you were alone before you went to Hogwarts?"

With the mention of Hogwarts a shadow fell across his face. "My parents kept me away from other children; it was safest that way, for the children and myself. When I came here it was like a dream, one that I had believed would remain just that."

"Everything changed?"

"Yes, not only was I learning magic but had three of the greatest...friends."

The last word came out no more than a whisper and she turned aside, hoping to ignore the pain she felt from him.

A cold nose touched her hand.

Perhaps, Calrheane could confide in him. Maybe it would give him strength as well for what was to come, knowing that there were others who were just as lost as he.

"I was alone growing up as well. There were those who wished me harm. For my protection my parents sent me to live in a place where men and elves lived together."

He surprised her, not asking about the reasons or why her parents weren't able to protect her. "But if you grew up around humans then why don't you know about their emotions?"

"In order to learn this, you must be taught by them. I was feared, even as a child."

"Why? I don't see any fangs or claws, unless you're hiding them from me."

To find humor within his darkness was a feat that caught her off guard. How did his spirit still shine with the taint? If he could speak in such a manner of his life then she would honor that.

"I am an elf who was supposed to have been born a mortal. Men feared me because I was different."

"You know, even after all these years that fact hasn't changed. We fear what we don't understand."

This strength he showed was amazing. She did not know how many years he had carried the black blood, fighting against its influences, but he still hoped.

"I can't say if it will be different this time around," Remus continued, "but I won't fear you."

The words he spoke rushed through her. Her surprise broke through the cool mask of indifference.

"So tell me, how did it go?"

"They taught me of Quidditch."

Remus chuckled and she found that she desired his mirth. "I thought you were the one that was supposed to be teaching them?"

"I was, but they were teaching me as well."

"Then you are a better teacher than me."

"My classes will never compare to yours."

"You heard them huh?" he ran a hand through his hair uncomfortably and the smile fell from his face.

Calrheane didn't understand his sudden change of mood, brought on by a simple statement. Shouldn't he be happy that the students, in particular Harry, thought so highly of him?

Shra rested her chin on his leg. It was odd seeing the two of them like that, the way his face softened as he gazed at her. Perhaps it was the wolf inside both of them that drew them together, like kindred spirits.

"_Why you are saddened by this? You're a great teacher_."

"I am happy. It's just difficult to be here after all these years. And Harry, he..." Remus paused, "he doesn't know that I was friends with James."

"_Harry's father_?"

"Every time I look at Harry I see James. I feel responsible for what happened; I should have known."

Calrheane knew he was referring to Sirius Black and the belief that Sirius was the Potter's secret keeper. After these twelve years, grief still bound Remus; a gray thread that clung to his spirit.

"Sirius Black will be found. You shall find the truth and the answers you seek."

"Yes, soon it will be all over. Maybe, Harry will even let me in his life, but being his teacher is a good start."

The look in his eyes pulled at her. She stared at her hand for a moment before reaching out and giving his hand a slight squeeze.

"Thank you."

"For what?" he asked, his eyes wide. "You were the one who is comforting me."

"Your help."

There were no words she could speak to express her gratitude. The smiles that frequented her now stemmed from his kindness and acceptance. It felt _right_ to belong.

"Thank you as well," he said while releasing her hand. Remus must have noticed her perplexed expression because he explained, "for talking with me, treating me like a human."

"No matter what you may feel, even if you are a _nauro_. You'll always be human," she said quietly.

Just like somewhere a part of her was also human.

**Quenya translations **by Arandil (for those Tolkien fanatics out there):

"_Á tulë síno, Shra. Merir omenta le_." – Come here, Shra. They wish to meet you."

"_Antaura súlimë, á lasta nye. Á quata sina sambë as ómalya." _– Most mightiest of wind, listen to me. Fill up this room with your voice.

"_Ferëa_." – Enough.

**A/N 4/24/05: **Once again, a big thanks to Arandil. She translated all the Quenya for me, spending hours on end to make the language as Tolkien authentic as possible. **- LtSonya**


	5. Hallway Meetings

Through Darkness and Light

Chapter 5

Hallway Meetings

"I can't believe he drank it," Harry muttered.

He strode out of Lupin's office, a bewildered look on his face. Lupin wasn't fazed at all, didn't even mind when Harry said Snape would do anything for the Defense job.

Besides, why would Lupin need a potion? Something was obviously going on.

Harry's feet tapped against the stone floor and the noise echoed in the deserted hallway.

At least for a short while he'd forgotten about not going to Hogsmeade. Ron and Hermione were probably at Honeydukes, their pockets filled with candy or having a nice cup of butterbeer.

The only good thing that'd come of this day so far was his unexpected conversation with Lupin. Ever since the class with the boggart, he thought Lupin believed him to be inadequate. A weight lifted when he learned that this wasn't the case.

He was surprised how easy the conversation with Lupin had been. There was this comfort between them, similar to how he felt around Mr. or Mrs. Weasley, but something more.

The sunlight from the windows cast a faded gold color in the corridor, a transition state as if unable to decide if night was ready to come. A motionless shape stood at the end of the hall, silhouetted against the sunset.

Harry squinted, hoping to see more than an outline of what appeared to be person. After two years of experience he no longer took his safety for granted. If Voldemort could penetrate the stronghold of Hogwarts, who's to say a mere prison escapee couldn't?

With cautious steps, he made his way to where the person stood. His hand crept to his wand.

Light glinted off long hair as the person stepped aside. "Hello, Harry."

"Professor Elessar?"

She said nothing and instead focused where he held his wand.

His eyes widened and shoved the wand back in his pocket.

Silence stretched between them as the minutes ticked by. He opened his mouth to break the uncomfortable stillness then stopped. He hadn't the faintest idea what to say.

Elessar shifted her attention from him to the window, one hand absently rubbing her upper arm.

Maybe he should just leave her alone; obviously she had something on her mind.

"Why are you not in Hogsmeade with the others?"

Great, everyone just had to ask why he wasn't in Hogsmeade. "I, well…"

"Do not be troubled. I see you wish not to speak of it."

Harry thought it might just be his imagination, but it appeared that her eyes lightened for a brief moment, a gold tint around the iris.

"You have been to see Professor Lupin."

It wasn't a question, though Harry nodded anyway. She really wasn't making this easy on him. Every time he was near her it felt like he was walking on eggshells, never really knowing what to say or how to act.

"How did you know that?"

"I am perceptive, but I cannot read minds. I see how your feelings when you touch the spirit world. A thread of Lupin's spirit is still attached to you."

"I suppose that makes sense."

"I have not seen him today. Is he well?"

"Actually, I'm not sure."

"What do you speak of?" she asked, concern evident in her voice, though her expression didn't change.

"He said he was fine, but why would he need Snape to make a potion for him? It was smoking," he added as an afterthought. Maybe she knew what was going on.

"I see," she said with a thoughtful expression on her face. "You need not worry."

"But Professor, it was _smoking_, even after he drank it."

"As I said, you need not worry."

"Oh, okay then."

What was he supposed to do? It would have at least been nice if Elessar had told him why not to be worried, but apparently she was keeping that to herself.

_The view from here is beautiful,_ he thought to himself. The sun's red and gold light filtered throughout the countryside, making it seem like a totally different world.

From nowhere a thought surfaced. Were the sunsets from her time any different or just one of those things that remained steadfast and unaltered?

"So what are you doing out here, I mean just standing around in the corridor?" he asked.

It dawned on him as he watched her eyebrows narrow, her forehead wrinkling, that Elessar was confused. But it couldn't be about his question, could it?

The fact that she was distracted set him on edge; Elessar was one to pay attention to everything around her yet right now it seemed like she was miles away.

"Professor?"

"I am restless, walks are calming for me."

"Oh."

First Lupin's secret with the potion and now Elessar. He'd been through more then any other kid his age. Why couldn't they trust him?

"Whether your heart believes it or not, you are young."

His heart thumped and he forced himself to breathe. How had she known?

"Dumbledore spoke with me in length of your adventures. You have done much, but your spirit holds many more years to it."

The sudden fear and unease that gripped him receded and was replaced by something else. Disbelief? Happiness?

No, he felt proud. Dumbledore was proud of him; he wouldn't have told Elessar anything if he didn't feel that way.

Harry's whole life he'd felt alone, an outcast who never fit in. Thinking of where he was now, he realized at some point that had changed. He had friends he could relate too, but also adults, teachers who were mentors and cared about him.

There was pressure on his shoulder. Elessar's hand was there.

"I'm happy for you," she answered. She squeezed again and withdrew her hand.

Harry backed away, his mouth went dry. The shuffling of his feet against the stone floor resonated in the corridor.

She had known what he was thinking. The rumors were true.

Staring into her eyes he could feel them peeling apart every thought, one by one sorting through his life. Or was this all just his imagination?

"I frighten you," she said quietly.

Urgency shot through him, a desire to leave before she learned anything more. She had seen so much, knew things that he couldn't begin to comprehend.

Elessar was beyond his _human_ understanding.

However, something about her expression made him pause. She was saddened by his reaction and for some reason that bothered him.

"Yes, you do."

She rubbed her arms, unwilling to look him in the eyes for which he was grateful. "What," she paused, "might I do to change that?"

There was a need in her voice. He wouldn't call it desperation, but it pulled at him. Maybe he should take a chance.

"I don't know what you could do, but asking really helped."

To smile was such a simple action, one that most people did without thinking or realizing that the slight movement of muscles could be enough to raise a person's day. On Elessar though, it was much more. Maybe he wasn't seeing one emotion but a merge of many.

It seemed they both had a lot to think about and maybe in the end she wasn't that different from him. He knew what she was feeling, had gone through something similar when he turned eleven.

The sky was now a blend of red and purple, with the forest covered in a black veil. Harry was reminded of an earlier thought he had.

"Can you tell me about your world? Maybe that would help me understand why you act so weird sometimes."

"Weird?"

He couldn't help but smile. The very word sounded foreign coming from her.

"Of course," he explained, "it's another word for acting strange."

"You think I act...weird?"

"Well, what about five minutes ago when you were standing in the corridor all by yourself."

"And that is...weird?"

"Right." Harry crossed his arms against his chest. He couldn't believe how bewildered she was; who would have thought it was possible to tease an elf.

"Alright," Elessar sighed. "What exactly do you wish to know?"

Harry grinned. Maybe his day wasn't nearly as bad as he first believed. "Well, I was wondering about sunsets…"

* * *

Sirius crouched, blending with the shadows. There were no students wandering about as most had gone to Hogsmeade and the rest safe in their common rooms.

He turned his head and froze. A thirteen-year old James jumped from behind a suit of armor, a curse nailing Snape in the chest and flinging him across the floor.

Peter snickered further down, a safe distance away from the action. Always the lookout for the group and the first to jet when a teacher came by.

_Traitor_, he thought to himself. Why hadn't he seen it coming? All those years and the answer was right in front of him.

He bit his tongue, drawing blood. Retribution would be his.

Paper rustled and a loud clink sounded from a nearby room. The person's smell was one he recognized.

His mind told him to run, that it was too dangerous. If he was seen, it would be over. Yet, he couldn't move. Remus was all he had left besides Harry, a doorway into a past he could never go back too.

That selfish thought, little more than wish, won out and he crept closer.

Stacks of parchment lined the desk creating a makeshift fort. Remus was bent over a book and his quill scratched on paper.

Gray streaked through his hair and a long, narrow scar traveled down the side of his left cheek. When was the last time Remus smiled?

A large part of the blame lay with Sirius and his failure in protecting the ones he cared about most. There was no changing the past though, and no matter how much he wished it, Sirius couldn't go back.

Remus glanced at the grindylow swimming in a fish tank and Sirius pressed himself against the wall.

No matter how much he loved Remus or how close they had been the truth still lay hidden between them. With that though in mind, he turned away.

Voices drifted in the air. He froze and his phial thumped against his fur from the sudden stop.

Harry.

For this being a covert operation, he was doing a terrible job. Here he was, main objective until the feast 'stay hidden and out of sight' and this was the second time he was putting himself at risk.

At the end of the hall Harry stood about shoulder level to a woman, both staring out of a large, arching window. They appeared to be in the middle of a conversation, which meant they were less likely to spot him.

A suit of armor stood alongside the stone wall, a silent sentinel covered in rust. He darted forward and hid himself behind the large shield.

The dust was horrendous and it swirled around him, going up his nose as he sucked in air. That would be his luck, having his cover blown on account of a sneeze.

There at the end of the hall was Harry, his brown hair sticking up slightly in the back. _Just like James_.

The Gryffindor patch stood out from his black robes; the red and gold colors fit him well. There was an air about Harry, a shy confidence that spoke of the powerful wizard hidden in the folds of youth.

Sirius dragged his eyes from Harry to look at the woman who he assumed to be a teacher. The woman pushed aside a strand of hair and one of her fingers brushed against the tip of a pointed ear.

Images came unbidden from the recesses of his mind, ones that had been locked during his twelve years of confinement. The memory gripped him, forcing him to watch on.

_Lights flashed, sparks that burned as he dodged. A spell emitting a red trail hit something to the left of him. A body fell and even amidst all the noise, Sirius could clearly make out the clatter of a wand as it hit the ground. _

_Blood flowed freely down his arm and he ducked behind a building. _

"_Avada Kedavra!"_

_He would not die. _

_A blue light shot out from the darkness, blazing past him towards those in pursuit. The power pulsed, a magic he had never felt before. _

_Screams echoed behind him. _

_Sirius stumbled and his knees scraped against the ground. His eyes stung, temporarily blinded from the light. _

_Someone knelt beside him and he instinctively reached out for the person's neck. _

_Like hell he was giving up that easily._

_With a force he hadn't expected, his hand was pushed aside. _

"_Calm yourself. You have been injured."_

_The toneless words broke through his rage of self-preservation, though what surprised him more was that the voice was clearly a woman's. _

_He squinted at the woman, but all he could make out was her blurry form. "Who are you?"_

_Her hands gripped his shoulders and she heaved him off the ground and leaned his weight onto her. "At the moment, I claim to be neither friend nor foe. That's for you to decide."_

_Never in his life had Sirius relied on the help of a stranger, and for that matter rarely his friends. Using his size to his advantage, he shoved the woman off him. _

"_I don't need your help," he snarled._

"_No, of course not. I would expect nothing less from someone the Mirror had shown."_

_Her voice betrayed no emotion, though he swore there was a hint of anger. So she wasn't inhuman after all. _

"_Mirror? What are you talking about? Who the hell are you?"_

"_This is hardly the time."_

"_Look lady, I don't have the patience for this –"_

"_You are still bleeding."_

"_I don't care if I'm about to lose my bloody arm!" He pointed his wand at her. "No more games. Give me answers. Now!" _

"_Very well, no games." _

_In a flash the woman ran at him, evading his spell with a simple twist. His wand flew from of his hand and he doubled over as she landed a blow to his side. She gripped his wrist, bending it at an angle where all she had to do was pull to break it. _

_The cold metal of a blade rested on his throat. _

_What a wonderful damn day. Not only trapped by Death Eaters he then got whipped by a woman. If he somehow managed to get out of this James would never let him live this down. _

_Wait a moment, since when did witches start learning Muggle fighting? _

"_So I suppose this means you're a foe," he snapped._

_She sighed and her breath tickled the back of his neck. "Once again, I do not know." _

_The pressure on his neck eased as something slide over his head. _

"_You will need this; a guide through the darkness if that path presents itself. Until then, perhaps we will both understand more."_

"_What the hell –" _

_The knife lifted. A gust crashed into him and he hit the ground. _

_Sirius shot to his feet, but the woman was gone. He glanced down at his chest, around his neck rested a glass phial filled with a clear liquid. _

Why now of all times did he remember this woman? He'd been trying to recall this memory ever since that day, but for some reason it had only been a haze. If it hadn't been for the phial or the bruise from where she'd hit him, he would have thought it was a dream.

His attention was pulled back to the present when Harry stepped around the elf to point out the window.

Unlike the rest of the wizarding world, he wasn't fooled. Calrheane Elessar had her own objectives. She wasn't the dainty type though her style of dress was misleading. Oh no, this elf was calculating. Every movement seemed to have a purpose.

The phial pulsed. He covered it with his paw, fearful that it would blow his cover.

Elessar stepped back, confusion on her face. Her gaze swept the corridor, eyes searching until she looked directly at Sirius.

His mind went blank and fear tore through him. She saw him.

"So you grew up around here?" Harry asked, turning to see what Elessar was looking at. "What's wrong?"

Heat radiated off Sirius's body and he pressed the phial harder. It throbbed, an insistent tug that seemed to be trying to attract attention.

_Quit it you bloody piece of glass_.

"It's nothing, Harry. I thought I felt something."

The two continued talking for another minute, then Harry waved and left. Elessar moved to go in the opposite direction and hesitated.

Sirius crouched, his muscles taunt and ready to spring. Even without his wand he was still dangerous. Teeth and claws would be weapon enough for him.

Elessar paused for one last glance of the hallway and just walked away.

This just didn't make any sense. She had seen him.

Several minutes went by; sure he would hear the thunderous footsteps of teachers swarming the hallway where he hid. No one came.

He was such a fool, risking everything like this. He could smell the fear pouring off him, but also excitement.

Sirius hadn't felt this alive in so long. Escaping Azkaban was like running from a nightmare that just morphed into another dream, never going away but following close behind. This was different; after all he was in Hogwarts hiding from the attention of teachers.

Somehow he was safe and his luck still held.

He trotted down the hall and the elf's scent drifted to him. It was different; nothing like a normal human's scent. He would think on his memory and the phial's reaction to Elessar later.

Something was going on, and until he found out he would never trust her. He hoped Harry had the sense to do the same.

Just a few more hours and then he could make his move. Retribution would be his.


	6. Hidden Meanings

Chapter 6

Hidden Meanings

A lingering smile crept on Remus's face. The house elves sure outdid themselves this year. Orange banners circled pillars and pumpkins soared above their heads.

"I think I ate too much."

"At least we put some meat on you," Flitwick said. "You were so skinny; I thought the students would run you into the ground."

"Food has nothing to do with it, my days are still numbered. Every class with Fred and George Weasley I ask myself, 'Will this be my last day?"

"Too right you are, but don't think there isn't a teacher here who doesn't feel that way when it comes to those two troublemakers."

"Three, actually, you're forgetting Shra."

Flitwick chuckled. "Indeed, speaking of which, I don't see her. Do you think Calrheane forbade her to come?"

"If she did, I wouldn't blame her."

"How cruel; Remus, how could you say such a thing? And here I put extra on my plate for her."

"_That _is precisely the reason why Calrheane would have done so. You know Shra's manners are only getting worse."

"Hey! Now I'm not the only one who spoils her."

There was a movement to the left and he tensed. Snape sat at attention, a scowl so deep it seemed etched into his features. He tilted his head and raised an eyebrow at Remus.

In that instant, the worn stitching on his robes was more prominent, the bright lights accenting his shabby clothes compared to the teachers finest. And with these feelings of inadequacy, he unconsciously sought the one person who could push them aside.

Calrheane listened to Hagrid, an easy smile gracing her face. It was Dumbledore's idea to seat them together and he was glad to see a spark of happiness had returned to his large friend. Yet, there was also a part that hoped she would sit with him.

It was strange, somewhere along the way he had grown accustomed to her presence. She no longer set the werewolf on edge, for which he was grateful.

This friendship came out of nowhere, catching him off balance and unsure. After Lily and James's death, he vowed never to trust again. Yet, he found himself wanting to trust her.

"She's fitting in," Flitwick said, following Remus's gaze.

"Yes, she is. I tend to forget that she doesn't understand everything about our world, but she's learning."

Flitwick nodded. "I'm pleased to see Dumbledore was right again, but when is he not?"

Even though Flitwick spoke in a joking manner, his words grabbed Remus's attention. "Right about what?"

"The students have accepted an elf as their teacher. That's helped a great deal in her defense with the Governors."

"Governors?"

"The Council called for an evaluation."

His breath caught and he looked sharply at Flitwick. "You mean inquisition."

"That's right."

"How is that you know?" _And I don't, _Remus wanted to add.

"I was asked to testify, that's the only reason I found out. The Minister wanted to keep this quiet; after all he can't have his newest celebrity being sent to trial."

The Governors despised any change, especially when it compromised their authority. Calrheane's very presence signified this, her knowledge of the past a powerful tool in the right hands.

He should have expected this, but why didn't she tell him?

"The governors want her registered as a non-human and subject to the rights of magical creatures."

"You mean no rights at all." He gripped his cloak. "Who's heading this?"

"Lucius Malfoy."

"I see," Remus said in a calm, controlled voice not betraying the raging emotions inside him. "And the outcome?"

"Fudge declared that they had no jurisdiction unless her actions caused harm."

"Then why is her case still pending?"

"The Ministry's got to control someone with Black still on the run. They need to feel secure in their power and she is the perfect target."

"Some things will never change," he said, ignoring the mention of Sirius.

"I'm afraid you're right my friend, politics is a fickle business. But let's leave such dreary talk for a less festive occasion. I've noticed you and Calrheane have been getting along rather well."

Remus took a deep breath. He knew that this conversation was bound to come up at some point.

"We are friends, nothing more."

"Of course; it was just an observation from me and a few other teachers."

"We have an understanding with each other, Flitwick. She's not afraid of me." _And I am not of her._

But how could he explain this bond to Flitwick or anyone else?

His black blood set him apart, an invisible barrier that stood between him and the rest of the world. Not even the Marauders fully understood the taint.

With Calrheane, everything felt different. She understood without asking, a knowing look in her eyes when a full moon approached. But it was more than that; her tender smiles sought comfort from him as well.

Remus smiled across the hall when she saw him, knowing he was under the scrutinizing eye of Flitwick. However, Calrheane didn't smile back, but continued to stare. Her eyes were cold.

His cheery mood bleached away and he tugged at the collar of his robes. "I think I'm calling in for the night. The potion takes more out of me than I realize."

"Of course, if you need anything be sure to let me know."

"Thank you."

He stood and swept his robes behind him. He clapped a few teachers on the back and said goodnight.

The corridor was empty and torches blazed along the wall. His feet tapped on the stone floor.

"Were you not enjoying yourself?"

Remus jerked forward. "Would you please in the future, not do that."

Calrheane stood, her head tilted. "Did you not hear my approach?"

"Most people, me included, are not used to an elf sneaking behind them."

"Sneak?" she smiled. "A word used by those not keen enough to hear when someone draws near."

"Well, with you around at least I'll be prepared. Then again, being scared out of my mind isn't good either, especially since I'm not as young as I used to be."

"Nor are you old."

"Maybe not, but I look far older than I should. An effect of my condition I'm afraid."

"Your gray hairs?"

"Of course there's more to it than that…"

She grabbed his arm, effectively stopping him. "I do not see what you speak of."

There was knowledge in her gaze, a glimpse into all she'd seen. A ravine opened and he finally saw the implications of this friendship. She would live forever with him nothing more than a passing memory.

"It's nothing." He shook her hand free. "Just stop looking at me like that. It's like you can see my soul."

"My apologies; that was not my intent."

She strode down the hall and he followed after her, already regretting his hasty words. Only on rare occasions did she close herself off and he missed the openness of expressions. He _wanted _her to trust him.

But what else was he to say? There were certain thoughts best left alone and her immortality was one of them.

"Look, I didn't mean what I said."

She nodded though her pace did not slow.

He needed something to draw away the tension and remembered what Flitwick had said. "I heard that you are having troubles with the Governors."

Her steps faltered but she recovered in that graceful, elf-way. "I did not wish you to know."

"Yeah, I assumed that."

"You misunderstand. The Governors desired that I be a creature with no rights; someone to be controlled. I knew how that would affect you."

"Friendship requires you to deal with painful memories or situations, but you do them anyway without regret. That's what friends do for each other."

"Friends," she said quietly, "in my time, I knew such people as companions. It would be _nice_ to have a companion here."

He chuckled at the way she said the word 'nice.' Modern terms sounded foreign whenever she said them, not quite fitting with her elven composure.

"That would be wonderful."

He realized they had gone some distance from the Great Hall. Shadows surrounded them, dancing off the walls to their own tune from the flickering torchlight. The night felt a bit too cold, a chill that swept past his robes.

"I doubt you called me out here to talk about the past."

Her smile faltered and she scanned the corridor, eyebrows drawn together.

Dread filled him. "What's wrong?"

"I'm unsure. I feel restless. Something is blocking my sight; a thin veil distorting the _fëa_. I can feel it, almost touch it. I know it's there, but…" she shook her head.

After two months in her company Remus had learned a few things about elven magic. It worried him that there was something going on that she didn't understand.

The werewolf was on alert. There was desire within his blood, the thirst to find and conquer this power she spoke of.

"Calrheane, tell me," he said, his voice tense as he pushed aside all thoughts of the werewolf. "Is it Black? Voldemort?"

Her demeanor changed and her face contorted in pain. Her hand clutched his shoulder and she doubled over.

"What is it? What's wrong?" He held out his wand, steady and unwavering. "Calrheane?"

"Something has distorted the _fëa,_ his cage is weakening."

Remus adjusted his grip, holding her closer to him. "What cage? Who?"

The intense look in her eyes as she stared at the ground, he knew she was viewing the _fëa_ world. But something was different.

"The world is changing. It is no longer as you remember it." Her voice was distant, as if she wasn't really talking to him, but across time.

"What do you mean?"

"There are other evils in this world, ancient ones that have been sleeping since the First Age."

Her words echoed in the very air around him and his world shrunk. Time stretched between them, pushing them further apart. He felt their friendship bend and crack at the edges. All the while she stood there, not offering any explanation.

The hairs on his arm stood on end. Ancient magic cracked in the air and he flinched back.

The werewolf howled and scratched against his insides, straining to save itself.

Then he felt. Magic crashed into him from behind, the force of it so strong they both fell to their knees. He heard Calrheane call out and he reached for her, but he was fighting against a current.

There was another wave, different than the first. This one was darker, fouler. Veins of ice circled around him. _Let go, _it whispered, _give into your power._

Was he really hearing a voice? Or was it just his imagination?

A blue light engulfed the corridor, driving back the wild magic.

Remus's body hit the stone floor, the force jolting him out of his stupor. His head swam and he blinked, causing the blurry images around him to clear.

"What…?"

Calrheane's fingers dug into his arm. "Are you hurt?"

"I'm fine," he answered and slowly got to his feet. "Just a bit dizzy. What was that?"

"I do not know. It felt familiar to me, but I've never…" she shook her head. "We should hurry. Others may need our aid."

"Wait," he said, grabbing her arm before she could pull away. "Did you hear a voice just now?"

The grip she had on him tightened and her face paled. "Voice? There was no voice."

"But…" So it was his imagination, but then why did it feel so real?

He felt her hand on his face, a light brush against his forehead. "Are you sure you're well?"

Remus nodded. "We should go. I'll be fine."

"Very well." She helped him up, using her body to steady him for which he was grateful.

"That magic took a lot out of me. I can hardly stand."

"I am not surprised. What we felt was a spell gone awry; it was ancient magic meant to destroy. By rights we should both be unconscious."

"What? But you said that you didn't know what it was."

"I don't, not really. However, the force behind the spell is unmistakable. It must have been meant for another."

They made their way down the hall and eventually Remus straightened himself. With each step his strength returned. Or maybe it was just his nerves. It had been too long since his days in the Order.

"What was it that you spoke of?" he asked, recalling what she said before the attack. "You went distant all of a sudden and mentioned an ancient evil."

Her eyes widened and she shook her head. "I'm not entirely positive what I said. I was not myself."

She seemed nervous all of a sudden, her eyes on the ground.

"You know, don't you?" he asked, his voice harsh. "You said the world was changing. What were you talking about?"

"The spirits were speaking through me. It happens from time to time, though it has been awhile. Wait," she stopped and he nearly ran into her.

"What is it?"

She knelt and brushed her hand across the ground. "Sirius Black."

The world spun and her words passed over Remus in a slow arc. Time seemed suspended. He felt himself running down the hallway, but his legs were rooted in place.

"What do you mean? How do you know?"

"I recognized his spirit. The Gryffindor tower; that's the direction his _fëa_ is coming from."

Without saying anything more, he ran down the hallway, adrenaline pumping through him. Even through his anger he felt a cold fear in his stomach.

How had Black gotten past the dementors? Could it be…? No, not his ability as an Animagus; there must be another reason. He _should_ tell Dumbledore the truth, but fear held him back. He had betrayed Dumbledore's trust all those years ago and even now he couldn't own up to it.

Each hall passed in a blur, his mind focused on the portrait of the Fat Lady.

They raced up another flight of stairs, and his feet stumbled up the steps. He reached the top and froze. Strips of the Fat Lady's canvas littered the floor and several sheets hung limp from her vacant portrait.

A fear he hadn't felt in twelve years hit him square in the chest. Once again Remus saw the evil his friend had become.

"Sirius."

Peeves the poltergeist floated above them chuckling, but Remus couldn't find the energy to really care. Calrheane moved toward the painting and ran her fingers along the jagged edges.

Remus knelt and picked up a piece of canvas on the ground. "Do you feel anything?"

She nodded and was about to say something when the voices drifted towards them. A few seconds later a crowd of students came into view, clamoring up the steps towards the portrait.

"What's going on?"

"What happened?"

"What's the holdup here? At least a few of you should remember the password. Move aside, I'm Head Boy." Percy Weasley pushed his way through. "Professors what's going on…?" His eyes widened. "Someone go fetch Professor Dumbledore! Now!"

Ron, Hermione and Harry shoved their way to the front.

_He's safe, _thought Remus.

The crowd parted to let Dumbledore, McGonagall and Snape through.

Dumbledore took a quick look at the painting and turned his attention to Calrheane and Remus. "We need to find her. Go get Mr. Filch. Search through all the paintings."

"You'll be lucky," chanted Peeves above them.

"What do you mean?" asked Dumbledore.

"Ashamed, Your Headship. Doesn't want to be seen, I saw her sprinting through a picture on the fourth floor."

"Did she say who did it?" asked Dumbledore.

"Of course she did. Didn't like being denied entrance." Peeves did a small flip in the air. "Nasty temper he's got, that Sirius Black."

Silence fell. No one spoke except for Peeves, his cackles echoing as he disappeared into a wall.

"Percy, take all the students to the Great Hall and wait there," commanded Dumbledore.

Harry's focus lingered on Remus before traveling to the destroyed portrait and then left with the rest of the students. If there was a way Remus could comfort Harry he would do so in a heartbeat.

"We'll need to search the whole ground, every potential hiding spot," Dumbledore commanded. "We may not find him, but perhaps a clue as to how he got in. Minerva you and Flitch secure the castle."

Snape said with contempt in his voice, "Are you sure, Lupin, you can't think of some place Black might be hiding? I mean if any of us had any idea, we would tell Dumbledore in a heartbeat."

The canvas Remus held fluttered to the ground.

"Severus!" McGonagall shrieked, "You above all should understand the trust Dumbledore puts in each one of his teachers."

"And what of that power we all felt?" Snape's gaze traveled to Calrheane. "Was that of Black's making as well, or was it someone else's?"

All eyes turned to the elf and Remus felt that same curiosity within himself.

"I know not what it was."

"Interesting," Snape continued, "after all it was ancient magic. That much was quite clear. But where could Black, if it was even him, have learned to use it?"

"Headmaster, I think it would be prudent to start the search. Finding Black," Remus said with conviction at Snape, "is our top priority."

Dumbledore regarded Remus, Calrheane and Snape. The way he seemed to be aware of everything going on around him, he really wasn't acting much different than Calrheane. Perhaps he had some elf in him.

"Severus, if you would look through the dungeon? Minerva, please take Mr. Filch and secure the castle."

"Of course, Headmaster." Snape glared at Remus before hurrying off with McGonagall right behind him.

"Calrheane, go speak with the dementors. I will join you after ensuring that the students are safe."

She turned to go, but Dumbledore warned, "Whatever happens, do not let them in."

"They will not enter." She looked at Remus and it seemed that she was searching for something.

He averted his eyes to the ground. She could search her own soul for once. From the corner of his eye he saw the train of skirt flutter past as she maneuvered down the stairs.

Remus could think of a million scenarios that were going through Dumbledore's head, all of which involved Remus helping Sirius. And hadn't he?

After all here was the perfect opportunity to tell Dumbledore the truth about Sirius being an Animagus. But the words wouldn't come.

"Do you have any idea how Black could have entered Hogwarts?"

"No, Professor. There are a few spots we were familiar with though."

Dumbledore gazed into Remus's eyes. "Good. Start with those places. Let me know as soon as possible what you find."

Remus's shoulders sagged, the weight of his lies crushing down on him.

He ran in the opposite direction of everyone else knowing none would find Black, but it didn't matter. He'd search all night.


	7. Shadows we Carry

Chapter 7

Shadows We Carry

The Shrieking Shack swayed from a gust and the floorboards above Sirius creaked. His dark hair framed his thin face and several strands stuck to his prominent cheek bones.

"What have I done?"

Sirius wiped a hand down his face in an attempt to cover the shame he felt. He had attacked the one place he had called 'home.' How had he sunk so low? Somehow over the years he had become exactly what he hated, his family.

The great and most noble house of Blacks; it really was a fitting name. Their hearts were nothing more than black organs, incapable of feeling love or compassion. And now there was no more divider separating him from them.

Today was just the beginning and he would never stop, continuing to fall further down that path. He chuckled at the irony. Killing Peter would save Harry, but at the same time it would condemn him forever.

"What does it matter anyway?"

He sank down to the ground and pulled his knees up to his chest.

Now the security of Hogwart's would be on high alert, an impregnable fortress of patrolling dementors and teachers.

"James, why in the world did you listen to me? Why hadn't we seen the truth?"

Ever since he stepped out from the dark walls of Azkaban, the memories had just disappeared, no longer haunting his every moment. Yet, now they fought to be free.

"No, no I don't want to remember."

There was a light pressure on his mind, a fleeting touch that maneuvered those doors back open.

"_The past cannot be forgotten; it is who you are_."

"No," Sirius moaned and clutched his head. "I can't remember." He couldn't tell if the voice was conjured by his own twisted mind, driving him further to insanity or something else entirely.

"_How can you run when what you fear is a part of you_?"

The scent of magic drifted in the air. Sirius froze and his eyes widened. No, he hadn't imagined it. The trace was light, so small that he normally wouldn't have sensed it.

This was not one of the voices he heard in Azkaban. Someone knew where he was and knew _who_ he was. But how was that possible? No one knew he was here.

Wait, _she_ had seen him in the hallway earlier today. He had been sure that Elessar did. Was the voice an a accomplice of hers, working against him?

"Who the hell are you? Did the elf send you? Did she?"

"_Why would the mirror show you?"_ The voice said instead._ "What part will you have to play_?"

The pressure on Sirius's mind increased and he screamed. There was only pain, more terrible than any Cruciatus Curse.

"_Why are you so important_?"

He instinctively clasped the glass phial. He was not about to let some pompous ass mess around in his head. Warmth seeped through his hand and the foreign magic faltered.

"_You fool_," the voice sneered. "_The light of Eärendil cannot harm my kind_." The presence shoved aside the last of Sirius's resistance, piercing through his mental barriers as if they were made of glass.

His hand tightened around the phial. Pain meant he was still alive. And that meant he could fight back. He would not die here.

"Get out!"

The phial burned his head and he almost dropped it. White light burst out from between his fingers, engulfing the room. The voice screamed; its frustration shook Sirius to the core as it was ripped from his mind.

Colors swam around him, blues and yellow mixing with every shade imaginable. He fell downwards, a spiral that took him further from life. Then there was nothing, only darkness.

The cold from the wooden floor seeped through Sirius's thin robes and his head throbbed. "Ugh," he moaned. His throat protested even with such a simple sound, raw as if he had been screaming.

Wait a minute, what happened? And why as he on the floor? With careful movements, Sirius managed to lift himself and held his head as the dizziness passed. He looked up and his breath caught in his throat.

_James Potter paced back and forth. Lily sat in a chair not far away with a baby cradled to her chest. _

No, this wasn't possible. Not this, anything but this. And yet no matter how much Sirius prayed that the memory would fade it did not.

_Lily's eyes were dark, showing that she hadn't slept in weeks. Even James showed signs of weariness, his cheek bones becoming more pronounced. James ran a hand through his hair, messing it up even further. He didn't realize what he was doing, so preoccupied with his thoughts._

"_Sirius, there isn't any time. We need to decide now."_

"James?"

This was only a memory, it wasn't real. He wasn't really hearing James's voice. Even with all the logic at his disposal, Sirius couldn't stop yearning.

"_James," Lily spoke quietly, "Dumbledore offered."_

_"I will not change my mind. I trust Sirius with my life."_

_"I have an even better idea," a third voice stated._

Standing a few feet away was himself twelve years younger. Even the eyes were different, not nearly as worn but held an inner fire.

_The young Sirius walked towards the couple and placed his hand on James's shoulder. "We can do this. You will get through this."_

_James smiled, the kind only shared among brothers. _

This man in front of him was _not_ James. He was not real. This memory could not forgive him.

"_What do you have in mind?" _

"_Peter."_

"No! He'll betray you!" Sirius reached for James, but his hands passed through the shadowy figure. He stumbled and his elbows smacked against the wooden floor. Underneath his tattered robes, blood trailed down his knees. "Stop it," he pleaded. "I don't want to see this."

"_Why Peter?" _

"_It's the perfect bluff. Voldemort would never dream of you choosing Peter. James, we can pull this off."_

_Lily had been sitting with an apprehensive expression on her face. "What about Remus?"_

_Sirius shook his head. "We can't trust him. He's been disappearing and not saying where he was going."_

_James knelt and lifted her hand, placing a gentle kiss on her fingers. "We need to make a decision, Lil'. Remus lied about traveling to Ireland."_

"_He could have been working for the Order," she protested._

"_Or Voldemort. We can't trust anyone."_

"_Then how you can trust Peter?" Lily knocked over her chair as she stood up. "What if you're wrong Sirius? Why not just use Dumbledore?" _

_James touched her face._

Sirius covered his ears. "No, don't say it."

"_Sirius is right, it's the perfect plan."_

"_Nothing is perfect," answered Lily._

_Harry cried, his shrill voice causing all three to stare at him. _

"Harry," Sirius croaked.

Harry and Lily had known, their hearts telling them Peter wasn't the right choice. Sirius and James had blind-sided themselves with their cleverness, but if they had taken a moment perhaps to listen would the outcome remain the same?

"_Lily, please let me hold him," _the young Sirius said._ "Please, this may be one of the last times I get too."_

"_Sirius," James said with confidence, "don't ever say that."_

He watched with longing as Lily handed Harry over. Even now he felt Harry's weight in his arms.

"_I'll miss you," _Sirius said quietly to Harry_, "but even if you don't see me, know that your godfather is always watching." _

_Harry reached up and his hand touched the phial around Sirius's neck. Rays of light shot out from it, shooting upwards and piercing through the ceiling as if it weren't there. Lily screamed. James yanked the phial from Harry and the light snuffed out. No one said anything._

_After a few minutes James asked, "What is that **thing**? What the hell does she want with you?"_

"_I don't know. But this is powerful magic," Sirius said. "Not even Dumbledore's knows its origin."_

"_You need to get that thing off of you. It's too dangerous. It could have harmed you or Harry!" James roared, the stress and sleepless finally having taken their toll on his control. " Sirius, I refuse to let you brush this off any longer."_

_Lily wiped her tears. "No, I don't think that's a good idea. Whoever she is, she wants to protect you."_

"_That woman had a knife to my throat! Hell, she couldn't even tell me if she was my enemy or not," Sirius snapped._

"_I know, but something's telling me she's not evil." _

The memory faded leaving Sirius sitting on the floor alone with the crystal phial resting in his palm. Through the howling wind and creaking of wooden beams, he could still hear Harry's laughter.

"James, I'm so sorry. I was wrong."

The liquid swayed in the glass and engraved along the surface was writing, a language he had never seen. Such a simple thing and yet within held a sleeping power with an unknown purpose. However, _she_ knew its purpose. He really had been such a fool; how did he not see it sooner?

Calrheane Elessar had given it to him all those years ago. The way the phial reacted in her presence – as if her magic called to it. She played him from the very beginning. This phial was meant to 'guide him through the darkness.' It was meant to protect him from Azkaban.

His hand tightened around the phial.

She knew. If she knew about him and Azkaban then she knew about Lily and James. She had the ability to stop that night, prevent them from dying. Instead she had done nothing. He pictured the phial cracking, breaking into hundreds of small pieces.

Sirius laughed his voice hollow. He let the phial slide from his hand, dangling from the silver chain around his neck.

Everyone was so trusting, never questioning her presence. She maneuvered them all, like pieces in a game of Wizard's Chess. Except this time he could see the board. Certain players were still shroud in illusion, but they would come out, just as the voice had. Sirius Black would be a pawn no longer.

* * *

Hundreds of stars littered the ceiling of the Great Hall. There was normalcy in such a sight and Calrheane hoped that this calm would sooth her. The meeting with the dementors had left her shaken. Apparently even elves weren't immune to their powers.

Snape hovered in a corner, his dark cloak an extension of the shadows. His eyes followed her every movement; an action she was growing accustomed to from him.

Dumbledore walked among the students, his eyes scanning all the faces. The way his hand stroked his beard, running his fingers through the thick whiskers, showed that he was deep in thought. He straightened and motioned her forward.

"Did you have any luck?"

"No. The dementors were enraged, but they are scouring the grounds."

"As I told Severus, I had hardly expected Black to linger. Have you learned anything new about the power we felt?"

"I only have questions. The spell was meant for another, but I do not know who."

"Ah, I thought as much myself. There was no focus, just blind magic," Dumbledore said.

"Whoever thwarted the spell didn't have the power to destroy it completely, which is why it sought another."

Dumbledore clasped his hands behind his back and continued his walk around the hall, Calrheane at his side. "There is something more that you're not telling me."

"Yes," she replied after a moment. "I felt Zirak as well."

Dumbledore's step faltered and his eyes narrowed. "You're sure?"

"I am." There was a hard edge to her voice. Zirak knew what would happen this night, had planned on this other power to make a move. What other consequences resulted that they were not aware of?

"I see. And you have no theories?"

How could she tell Dumbledore what she felt? That the magic used to attack was so familiar, the core of it nearly identical to hers. But no, she must be mistaken. It wasn't possible.

"I wish to speak with Shra first and I would not speak of such here."

"Yes, you are quite right. Who can tell which of these children were unable to find comfort in dreams?"

Several wavered between the waking world and the sleeping one. She should not have said so much. Seeing them all here, so innocent and carefree, she pondered over her decision. They were in danger. She should leave, explaining to Dumbledore that there was too much at stake. Yet still, she said nothing.

Dumbledore placed his hand on her shoulder. "Are you alright?"

"I am weary."

"This is understandable, you should rest. Tomorrow we will speak more on these matters."

She nodded and headed to the entrance. There was much to be done, many questions to ponder over. Where was Shra? Surely she should be back by now unless something happened? Calrheane shook her head. No, Shra was safe. She would know otherwise.

Snape waited for her at the large doors, his dark eyebrows drawn together.

"Professor Snape," she greeted as she approached.

"I would have you call me Severus if I believed you desired to become so familiar."

"Is there something I can do for you?"

He frowned at her words and his attention shifted. She followed his line of sight to see Dumbledore staring at them. She could understand his curiosity; it was a rare sight for her and Snape to converse. However, tonight she did not have the legendary elven patience to deal with him.

"If there is nothing, then I bid you goodnight."

Snape followed closely, the taping of his shoes echoing across the deserted hallway. She pinched the bridge of her nose, hoping to dispel the coming headache.

"Why do you follow?"

"Among humans it is customary for a gentleman to walk a lady home. I wish to ensure you reach your rooms safely, there's no telling _who_ you may run into."

"I see."

A portrait of a grizzled man grumbled hollered, "So did ya youngster's catch'em yet?"

Snape snorted, but Calrheane stopped at the painting. "We did not," she answered.

"Eh? Is that so? Not much of an elf or wizard are the two of you? If I were still around my crew and me would've turned the castle upside down. Not a one person had ever been able to withstand the might of the Late Nut Gang," the man straightened his night shawl.

"I'm sure," Snape replied and pulled her past the portrait.

"No respect for your elders!" he yelled after them. "And when are ya going to put these torches out? Black or no, we need sleep!"

The volume in the man's voice lessened as the distance grew and most of her focus was on the hand dragging her. "I assure you, Professor that I am capable of walking on my own."

Snape let go and stepped back as if to reestablish the personal space between them. "I do not have the time or patience to dawdle this night as you feel inclined to do."

"I did not insist on you accompanying me."

"They will learn of the situation soon enough. And as I stated earlier, I would prefer to know that you reached your rooms safely."

"Your concern is not directed towards my wellbeing." It was obvious that he wanted something, most likely information. She found it surprising he would risk his discomfort.

He motioned her forward with his hand, the gentleman gesture a complete contrast to the cold tone in his voice. "The power tonight left me drained even though it had no interest in me. Then you remained in the company of dementors for several hours, I doubt even an elf is unfazed. Of course, my analysis doesn't include any other dealings that we may not be aware of."

She sighed and ascended the nearby stairs. "Why not ask what you wish to know?"

"Very well." Snape brushed past her and blocked her path. It appeared now he desired her full attention since they weren't skirting around the issue.

"During the War several associates and I came into contact with strange beings," he explained. "They were shades, able to get past mental barriers, including mine, which I can assure you were quite strong."

Her face easily fell into the mask the students knew her for, the cold indifferent elf. "And what does this have to do with me?"

"You were one of Dumbledore's spies during the War and so would also have felt these wraiths."

"How did you..."

"Dumbledore did an excellent job keeping you a secret, though I'm curious how he managed to convince you in the first place."

"I wonder the same of you."

"Indeed. The point is that you know what, or _whom_, I'm speaking of."

"What connection have you made?"

Unlike any other, he saw through her carefully laid plans and even now showed his intellectual prowess. However, this was not the cause for her discomfort or her desire to leave his presence.

While in Middle-Earth there was no gray area, just good versus evil. She was raised believing that a man like Severus Snape wasn't possible, one who lived with darkness and yet wasn't consumed by it.

"These wraiths," he continued, "had a very distinct magic and would leave behind a unique signature. The power we felt tonight reminded me of them. The signatures were different, but the magic was old; the kind not of this _time_. Is it not curious?"

"Is that so?"

"It's interesting really. I wondered why it was so familiar and then I realized something. I felt this magic everyday. Your magic to be precise, or should I say _elvish_ magic."

"Professor Snape, I ask again that you be direct."

"I am concerned about the danger you have put this school in by being here. Why now, twelve years after the War has ended do you come into the open? Then there's this unknown attacker whose magic is similar to your own."

"I can assure you that I am no more a danger to this school than Harry Potter, Dumbledore, or even yourself are." She sidestepped around him. "It may be difficult to believe, but even I don't have all the answers."

"But you have some?"

"Perhaps, but do you not as well?"

"What I do not know, I will find out soon enough."

"I see. Then that is true for us both. Namárië, Severus."


	8. To be Stronger

Chapter 8

To be Stronger

"Where is she? Vala, it's been hours. I should have gone with her."

Moonlight filtered through the nearby window, lighting the small lounge with an eerie glow. A black shape crossed the sky, its tattered cloak catching in the air.

Calrheane reached with the _fëa_ and brushed the dementor's spirit. Voices echoed around her, their words muffled. The past, which she had hidden deep within the recesses of her memory, threatened to spill out.

She pushed them aside and concentrated on the dementor.

_So, he escaped again_. She wasn't surprised; Sirius Black was more resilient than any other she'd met. He may have escaped, but this didn't solve her current dilemma. Shra still wasn't back.

Her eye caught a long rectangular box, the ends of it hanging off her center table. "I had forgotten."

A thin layer of dust coated the box. There were few items she carried with her from Valinor. Vines and leaves were carved into the wooden surface and she traced the inscription. She unhooked the latches on the box, releasing the small of cedar.

Nestled in the folds of silk rested her mother's sword, Hadhafang. The blade itself was two feet in length and gold script was etched on it. The reddish-brown handle called to her; after all these years she still remembered its comforting weight.

Time passed as she stared at the sword, fighting back the memory of when it was bestowed upon her. "This is part of who I am," she said and grasped the sword.

The words meant nothing, wisdom falling on a closed heart. Fear gripped her and until she forgave herself, she could never let go. "Mother, you wouldn't have died if I'd been stronger."

"_Calrheane_." The voice boomed across the room and she spun around. Shra stood in the doorway, her golden eyes glowing.

"How is it you open doors and yet make no sound?" Her voice wavered, but she managed to smile. Shra was safe.

"_That is a secret; one which I will not tell even you."_ Shra's gaze traveled to the sword. "_You are remembering_."

"Not even elves are immune to the dementors." Calrheane put the sword back and re-did the bindings on the case. "I was concerned for you."

"_You should not worry."_

"I do."

"_I am well enough. I only wish I had been able to find the one who was disrupting the fëa. There's more going on than we realized,_" Shra stated, her tone harsh. "_The Forest is weakening_."

"You're sure? I have felt no change."

"_It is subtle. We are not part of the Forest, therefore it went unnoticed. I followed the current to one who could give us answers. He said little, but what I did learn concerns me_."

"And?"

Mud caked Shra's legs and small clumps fell when she walked. "_It was not the Dannen_."

"I know." No matter how much she wished it, she could never forget their magic. Even now she heard their screeching, fighting against the spell her mother had cast. She shuddered and grasped her necklace. "I do not wish to speak of them."

"_There is no time for your guilt." _Shra's lips pulled back, baring her teeth_. "In 3,000 years you have not been able to forgive yourself and the Dannen certainly aren't going to wait. Their master is impatient and he calls to them_."

"I am well aware of that. I can feel it," she snapped.

Her fists clenched, digging her nails into soft flesh. Why now, of all nights, must Shra be so persistent? The past was not the issue. It would be dealt with, but on her terms.

"The Dannen were _not_ behind the attack; we must find out who was."

Shra huffed and shook her fur. Sludge splattered onto the floor and furniture. "_Very well, if that is your decision."_

"It is."

"_I went to speak with Great One."_

"I have not heard of him."

"Y_ou wouldn't have_. _He's the physical embodiment of the unicorn's spirit and the Forest's protector_," Shra explained._ "The title of 'Great One' is passed from father to son. Even those Elders still alive from the Ages cannot compete with his power_."

"Why didn't Great One stop it then? Surely he must have seen the threat?"

Shra snorted. "_This evil is killing the Forest, tainting the fëa world. To heal, it has been feeding off Great One._"

"But that can't be."

A spirit was supposed to be untouchable, each individual born unique, something that couldn't be changed. However, history proved this wrong time and time again. Zirak, the Dannen, even dementors were evidence of this. Could there be another who sought to rid themselves of their _fëa_, becoming greater and more terrible like Zirak? Or was there another reason?

"Does Great One know who's been attacking the Forest?"

"_Whoever this being is, he's good at hiding. Not even I could track him. The spell's remnants disappeared, leaving no traces. However, Great One did know what the power was after_."

"Which was...?"

"_His son; that was all he would say_."

A chill swept through Calrheane. A unicorn, but why? To be hunted by darkness, it was not something she desired any to feel. If there was a way to change this unicorn's fate, she would.

"This power is familiar, yet also something I've never felt before. Snape was right; it's ancient, similar to my own, but I don't recognize it. That's what concerns me."

"_Snape? What does he have to do with anything?"_

"He had contact with the Dannen during the War though he doesn't know what they are."

"_He has connected you with the Dannen? And also this power_?"

She nodded.

"_There is nothing we can do, but surely that was not why dementors swarmed the grounds?" _

"Sirius Black made his first move. He attempted to get into the Gryffindor common room." Just thinking about him was enough to give her headache. Questions assaulted her, demanding that she discover his part in this journey.

"_What will you do_?"

"I will do as I've always done."

"_You mean nothing. And how will that answer your questions_?"

"The Mirror is deceptive; it may have nothing to do with me."

"_Obviously it means something more. The Star-glass is proof enough."_

Until this night Shra had left the subject of Sirius Black alone. She had never questioned Shra's silence before, but thinking in retrospect it contradicted the wolf's inquisitive nature.

"He is not bound to this war. I _shouldn't_ have seen him and I'm not going to assume that because I did, he a purpose to play."

"_Then why did you give him the phial_?"

"Because Ingwe requested that I do so. Either way, it matters not. I saw a possible future, not a certainty."

"_You still saw him_."

"I know and that's the problem." There were too many unknowns to deal with in one day, Black being the least among them.

There was a knock at the door and Shra jumped, the fur on her back rising. Perhaps Calrheane wasn't the only one affected by the dementors. Shra usually had a calm head.

Another knock, this time louder.

Calrheane drew on the _fëa _and her breath caught. "Remus."

The only thing she heard was her thumping heart as she opened the door. Remus stood in the darkened hallway, his face covered in shadow. His eyes were piercing, a look of accusation as he glared at her.

"_Are you just going to stand there all night pretending you can read minds?"_

"Shra," Remus said and walked into the room, "I'm glad to see that you're safe." He did not look at Calrheane.

"_You had doubts?"_

"I suppose that was silly of me, you're quite capable of managing on your own."

Shra's ears twitched forward and sniffed his foot. _"Did something happen? Your spirit feels weaker."_

Remus's back straightened. "Yes."

"_Well_?_"_ At Shra's inquiry Remus said nothing and her gaze flicked to Calrheane.

This conversation was bound to come up, she was only lucky Shra had not noticed before this. Either way it mattered not. Calrheane wanted to reach out to Remus, to offer some words of comfort or explanation. His face was impassive and the hard look in his eyes stalled any of her movements. She took a deep breath, perhaps it would be easier to simply deal with Shra.

"You felt the power that was unleashed, but it missed the original target and found us instead."

"_Why did you not speak of this? Were any others affected?"_

"Several teachers felt it," she answered, "but no others were attacked."

"_I see._" Shra scratched her belly with her hind leg. "_Why the two of you? That is curious."_

"Indeed." Remus's eyes narrowed. "There are many things curious about this night."

"_Really? I thought it was quite dull before that power attacked._"

Calrheane reached for him and he pulled away. "Remus, I…"

"Why?"

"_What did you do now?"_

"I have so many questions, but right now all I care about is protecting Harry," Remus said, his voice harsh. "Before we were attacked you went into a trance. Tell me the truth."

She looked away. "I didn't mean to say what I did."

"That was quite obvious."

"_What happened? Did you see something in the fëa?"_

Remus stepped closer to Calrheane, his eyes flashing. "She spoke of an ancient evil that's been sleeping. She said the world was changing. What did you mean?"

Her stomach lurched and she pressed her hand against it. She felt sick, as if her insides were churning. This wasn't her fault. She hadn't meant to say anything to cause his mistrust. Now that she had, to learn more would only put him at greater risk. That's what the Vala had counseled, but then why did this feel so wrong?

"It would be best to forget what I said," Calrheane said.

Shra wisely, kept quiet for which Calrheane was thankful. Her spirit was too weak to deal with both of them right now.

Remus's lips were set in a thin line. "And what of me?"

"What?"

"Don't play innocent. Did this really mean anything to you, this friendship? You just stood by, and even now you're still saying nothing."

"I…" her voice trailed off. "I'm sorry."

Remus stood there, his eyes never once leaving hers. In that moment she felt an unbearable pain ripping through her body. What was holding her back? Surely not her loyalty to the elves, the ones who would rather she never existed.

She could tell Remus, gaining back his trust. The betrayal would be gone, replaced by the relaxed smile she'd grown accustomed to. Then the moment was gone, her chance lost.

"Very well." Remus turned and just before he left said, "I will forget…everything."

The door shut, a small click as the lock reset itself.

Her knees shook, but she remained upright. She heard his soft footfalls as he left. He was leaving. She desired more than anything to run after him and explain everything. Yet, her feet did not move.

"_Are you happy now? You could have told him, you know. I would have said nothing against it."_

"I wanted to protect him." At least, that's what she believed…right?

"_He's a werewolf; he's in danger no matter what_."

"Zirak will seek to corrupt him," she whispered. "I can't let that happen, not to him."

"_Did you ever think that with you around, he might be stronger_?"

Calrheane spun to face Shra, only to see the wolf nudging the sword case with her nose.

"_Did you ever think that you might be stronger with him?"_


	9. Face Off

Chapter 9

Face Off

Hermione tapped her fingers on the desk. "She's late."

Harry shrugged. "She'll be here, don't worry."

"Who says I'm worried?" Hermione watched as Shra paced, her feet padding against the stone floor. She glanced at the door and her ears flicked back.

That was curious. Was it possible that she didn't know where Elessar was? She kept that thought to herself; Harry wouldn't listen anyway so she let her mind wander. A new map was posted on the wall, its edges brown and fraying. Could it be as old as the other one?

The maps fascinated her. Perhaps it was the similarity to books, a doorway through time. There was something about these maps though, magic seemed engraved into its parchment. The swirl lines indicating waves swayed and a storm passed over Gondor. Even from where she sat, Hermione caught glimpses of forked lightening. It was history unfolding – they were not simple drawings.

She would often come here when Elessar was gone, studying the maps. Who knew what secrets they held? Hermione fingered the Time-Turner hidden under her shirt. After all, she did have a few moments to spare.

Shra froze and lifted her nose. Hermione twisted in her seat and saw Professor Elessar come through the doors. Her green clock was covered in dew and the hem of her dress was soaked.

"Forgive my lateness," Elessar said, but Hermione caught the worried tone in her voice. No one else seemed to notice, they were all to busy joking that it was all right if she hadn't shown up.

Shra leapt towards Elessar, knocking a stack of parchments onto the floor with her tail. A few rolled to Hermione's foot.

Elessar knelt and stroked Shra. The look in her eyes softened, but she seemed hesitant. Had they disagreed over something? Maybe even a fight? "Umin tuvs, fëa vanwa i sírëllo."

Hermione snagged her quill and wrote down the elvish, or at least what she thought the words sounded like.

Shra nudged her head in Elessar's shoulder.

"I fána rocco varna. Umin tuvs tanna Black."

Shra moved back. Both were ignoring the student's questions, everyone wanting to know what Shra was saying.

"Vá quentë ana sina Remus." Elessar stood abruptly. She did not look at Shra.

"We were hoping you wouldn't show," said Dean.

"I'm sorry to disappoint you," Elessar answered, hanging her cloak on a peg.

"Where've you been?" Ron asked. "It looks like you went for a morning stroll in the Dark Forest."

"I did."

The students sat there, mouths open as they stared at her. Shra grabbed a mouthful of Elessar's dress and yanked her towards the front of the class. The tension between the two was gone. Or was that just an illusion?

Laughter replaced the shock, the perfect distraction from Elessar's appearance. Hermione's eyes narrowed. It was brilliant; who would suspect that a wolf was drawing attention from Elessar's strange actions?

Granted, this wasn't difficult because the students had a special place in their hearts for Shra. The wolf added something extra to Hogwarts. The pranks she pulled with Fred and George were the talk of the school. It was well-known that Elessar got lectures daily from the staff, especially from Snape.

"That is quite enough Shra," Elessar scolded and picked up the knocked over papers.

Harry nudged Hermione in the stomach. "You're closer, help."

Hermione sighed and gathered the papers that had fallen near her.

"My thanks." Elessar put down the rest and took the two from Hermione. It was a simple statement and yet Elessar just had to look at her like that; it set Hermione's nerves on end.

"Sure," she said and then sat down.

Elessar straightened and addressed the class. "Today you will take your first steps in elven magic. First, I would like a review in elvish."

Several students moaned, including Harry. Hermione didn't pay attention. She had other things to worry about, like translating what Elessar said to Shra. The classroom faded and the voices became a backdrop as she concentrated on the scribbled elvish.

The sentences weren't complex like she had feared. Hermione brushed her quill against her lips. She _could_ do this.

"I did not find him, his spirit vanished from the current."

Him, who's him? Could Elessar be talking about Sirius Black? After all the attack had happened three days ago, but vanishing from the spirit current? How could that be possible?

"I fána rocco varna." Let's see. Fána rocco meant 'white horse.' There weren't any white horses running around the Dark Forest, unless…?

"Unicorns," Hermione whispered. That had to be what Elessar meant. So a unicorn was safe, what did that mean?

She translated the next sentence to say, "I also found no trace of Black." The initial person who Elessar was looking for, was someone other than Sirius Black.

Her brain hurt; this was getting complicated. If only she could hear what Shra had asked. That might fill the gaps.

The last part was easiest to read. "I will not speak to Remus of this."

Hermione shook her head. What was going on? Wasn't Elessar supposed to be good friends with Remus, but the rumor lately said that they were in a fight.

"Hermione?"

Her head shot up to see Elessar staring at her. "Yes?"

"Please translate for me, 'I know your strength in war."

She put down her quill, careful not to look at the parchment in case Elessar figured out what she had been doing.

War was _ohta_ and _tuo_ meant strength.

She pictured the maps and the battle at the Black Gate of Mordor came to her mind. The translation came to her just as she remembered two short people running, swords high in front of a smaller army.

"_Inyë hanya tuolya ohta_," she said, careful to get to the correct pronunciations.

Elessar nodded. "Five points to Gryffindor."

What? That was the first time Elessar had praised her.

"Now, you each have a feather and the name for it is '_quessë_.' Please repeat."

"Quessë," the students said in unison.

"Close your eyes and unlock your senses like we have practiced. Picture the feather. Its shape, color and how it feels. As you do this say, 'Quessë."

Hermione did as she was told. This was silly. No respectable witch or wizard did this. But what if…? Whose to say that she couldn't learn elven magic? No one of course, except herself.

"Quessë," Hermione whispered.

Nothing special happened, but Elessar didn't say anything was supposed to.

Again she remembered the maps and the way they came alive. How was that possible? After all it wasn't logical, and yet it happened anyway.

"Quessë," she repeated. The word vibrated off her lips and the feather in her mind twitched.

"Quessë." The color changed, from a pure white to gray then brown. Wait a minute, she felt something!

Hermione opened her eyes. Professor Elessar stood in front of her and nodded. "Very good, Hermione."

"Quessë," said Harry.

Hermione sat shocked as Harry's feather swayed on the desk. She looked down at her now brown feather. "But how?"

"That is the power of my magic," Elessar said. "You called on the feather's spirit and it listened." She smiled and left to speak with Neville whose feather had turned a bright blue.

"Can you believe this?" asked Harry.

Her fingers trailed down the length of the feather. If she was disarmed she wouldn't be helpless. Had she been wrong about Elessar? After all, Dumbledore did trust her. Hermione sighed.

Why didn't she like Elessar? It was just something she felt when she first laid eyes on the elf, a pull in her gut that told her this elf was more than she seemed.

But who had Elessar been talking about? Hermione hadn't seen Shra worried before, but she clearly had been. Had Elessar been in danger? Hermione bit down on her bottom lip; she couldn't wait to tell Ron and Harry. Maybe they would finally believe her!

The class period flew and they continued with these same exercises. "Wasn't that excellent?" Ron asked when the lesson was over. "My feather turned three different colors."

"I could have sworn mine floated," Harry answered.

"That was pretty amazing," Hermione admitted.

"Well, imagine that," Ron laughed. "I reckon you're finally realizing that Elessar isn't so bad."

"That has nothing to do with it. Her magic is amazing, but that doesn't mean I trust _her."_

"But even still," Harry said, "she wasn't able to stop Black."

All thoughts of telling them about Elessar's conversation fled at Harry's forlorn expression. Sirius Black was after him and she was concerned with Elessar. She had forgotten about him, so caught up in her own conspiracies.

"Do you think Dumbledore has any idea how Black got in?" asked Ron as they left the classroom.

"I don't know, but Snape seemed to think that Black had help." Hermione glanced at Elessar's classroom. A couple stragglers filed out, their faces lit with excitement. Shra trailed after them and spotted Hermione. Her fluffy tail wagged once before she trotted in the opposite direction.

Maybe she could help Harry, or at the least put to rest what's been going on. Either way, Elessar could be trusted or she couldn't; it was time to find out.

"Nah!" exclaimed Ron with a shake of his hand. "They'll never cancel Quidditch, not even for Black."

"Hey, Hermione, what's with you?"

"Oh, what was that?" She turned to them and noticed the odd looks on both their faces.

"You haven't heard a word we've been saying," Ron stated.

"Of course," she pulled her book-bag higher up on her shoulder. "Listen, I need to talk with Professor Flitwick, I'll meet up with you guys later."

Before she gave them a chance she hurried off the other way. Darted to an adjacent corridor and pressed against the wall. When the coast was clear she headed to the classroom.

Professor Elessar sat at her desk, writing with a bright blue quill. A hand massaged her forehead and she closed her eyes. Dark rims hung above her cheekbones. In a human this would indicate a lack of sleep, but what does that mean for an elf?

Hermione was about to announce her presence when a thought stopped her. Elessar _shouldn't_ be this exhausted. She was an elf; these normal things didn't affect her. It went along the same lines that Dumbledore could never be weak. And yet, it was happening. Why didn't she feel triumph at this realization; Elessar wasn't untouchable?

"Please come in, Hermione."

"How did you…?"

"I heard you. You must be quieter."

Hermione frowned; she had been quiet. A change in topic was in order. "Is that Neville's feather?"

"Beautiful, isn't it? I asked if I could have it." She gazed at Hermione. "That isn't why you're here."

Hermione placed her bag down, unfazed by Elessar's straight-forward statement. That just made her job easier. "No, it isn't."

Elessar nodded. "Then ask what you wish about Black."

"I…" she glanced at the floor.

What was wrong? This was her opportunity so why didn't she feel right? Maybe it was Elessar tired appearance; she didn't need a student accusing her of being in league with an escaped wizard.

"Professor, is there something wrong?"

Elessar's eyebrows lifted, the only sign of surprise Hermione could see. "My thanks for your concern. I am only weary."

"Are you sure? I thought elves didn't sleep much."

"I see you've paid attention. Lately my spirit has been in need of rest. Don't concern yourself, it will pass."

"Oh." That's curious, why would her spirit be tired?

Elessar placed her blue quill down. "Shra did an excellent job distracting everyone, didn't she?"

"What?" Hermione asked.

"They all forgot I was in the Dark Forest and was late to class, except you."

Hermione nodded, her throat having gone dry. She fiddled her tie, Well, that's because I don't trust you."

"Yes, I know. I've been curious as to why."

Hermione's mouth dropped. "Because, well you're an immortal. You've come back for your own reasons. I can't imagine you left paradise to teach children elvish magic."

"So my being an 'immortal' means you should distrust me?" Elessar stood and walked to the map of Middle-Earth. A wistful expression crossed her face as she brushed her hand over the small city that read Minas Tirith. "I gave up that life."

"You may have left your elven home, that doesn't change who you are."

"Perhaps, then what about you?" Elessar asked. "Do you consider yourself a Muggle or a witch?"

"Well, that's silly I'm a…"

"Witch? Are you sure? And what of your parents?" Elessar asked.

Hermione's fist clenched. The anger she felt was not directed at Elessar, but at herself. Her first impulse had been to deny her parents, proclaiming she was a witch. But she was a witch. She went to Hogwarts and learned magic. Did that she discounted her parents blood?

"Hermione," Elessar continued, "you are right to distrust me. I have not earned your trust."

This truth, so easily spoken, surprised Hermione. There weren't many people who counseled against complete and blind trust. Dumbledore trusted Elessar. If she, a student, had put together pieces of Elessar's past, specifically the phial, then there's no way that Dumbledore didn't know.

So where did that leave her?

Hermione shifted, her focus traveling to the map. The words, 'Fangorn Forest' jumped out and she remembered the conversation with Shra. "What happened last night?"

Elessar smiled. "I will be more careful who we speak in front of."

Hermione blushed. "Well, you are teaching elvish."

"This is true. I had not expected the speed of your advancement." Elessar sighed. "Last night had nothing to do with Black. The Forest was in pain and called out to me."

"Why? What happened?"

"I do not know."

"Don't know or won't tell me?"

"I shall leave that for you to discover."

Cryptic and evasive, probably a criteria in order to be an elf. Hermione was going to reply when she noticed Elessar stiffen. Professor Lupin walked by and hesitated when he saw them. Without saying anything, he continued on. So, the rumors were true.

"Umm, Professor did the two of you have a fight?"

"A fight?" Elessar asked. "Yes, he is angry with me."

"Oh, I'm uh sorry to hear that."

What was she supposed to do? Comfort her? A hug or pat on the hand? None of that seemed appropriate.

Hermione fidgeted with her tie and an uncomfortable silence settled between them.

"I apologize," Elessar said shaking herself from whatever world she was in. "You came here to speak with me about Black."

"Yeah, I guess I did."

The question no longer felt important. She had glimpsed into something else, a larger pictured that she hadn't been aware of. However, she might as well ask what was on her mind and deal with the consequences. "I wanted to know if you were the one that gave Black the phial."

"I see." Elessar opened a window with a wave of her hand, allowing a breeze in. Her face relaxed. "You are preparing Hagrid for Buckbeak's trial."

The evasive responsive didn't surprise Hermione. "Yes, I am. What does that have to do with you and Black?"

"Everything."

"What?"

"Who's to know every thread, every connection that exists? I can't claim that. Nor can Dumbledore or even you. Everything is connected."

"And Sirius's Black?"

"It is a strange thing that he is bound to Fate, and yet the only one who remains free to choose."

Elessar's words pulled at her. For a moment Hermione stood at the edge of a vast lake. The mist was dense, but there were hundreds of lights, little lanterns that floated above the water.

"What are you talking about?"

"There is more than we see." Elessar gestured to the spot on Hermione's chest where the Time Turner lay. "What I say will not matter. You shall leave this room distrustful of me, but following your own path."

"And Black? What about him and Harry?"

Elessar's shoulders fell. "The Ministry is keeping secrets from Harry, this you both know. Harry will discover them. I and the staff shall remain silent. Black will face judgment; not even he can escape that."

Hermione bit her lip. "So even if I were to ask you again if you gave Black the phial, what would you say?"

"I would say nothing," Elessar said, a smile tugging at the corner of her lips. She moved to her desk and opened a drawer. "This is for you."

Hermione took the old parchment. "What is it?"

"A gift."

Hermione carefully unrolled the parchment and froze. "Professor this is..."

"A map. Actually, it was mine while I traveled Middle-Earth. I no longer need it."

Perhaps a bridge formed at that moment. Elessar challenged Hermione in a way no one else had before. The other teachers would not have stood against her accusations; discipline actions would have been taken. However, Elessar forced Hermione to see beyond the facts.

She glanced down at the map. Just as Elessar said, there were connections everywhere and she now held one of them.


	10. Lines Between Friendship

Chapter 10

Lines between Friendships

Smoke slithered down Remus's hand from the Wolfsbane potion, a cool touch mirroring how he felt. After all these years he finally understood.

Hogwarts once signified a beginning, but it was an illusion. The Marauders, four close friends, but that wasn't true. They splintered and broke when unity was needed. And now, just like before, Calrheane's friendship was a façade.

A breeze passed by. That was strange; he made it a point to close the windows earlier. But then where...?

The door to his study shut. His tainted blood strained against his control, snarling, fighting. It was awake and alert so close to the full moon, requiring extra energy to keep the primal tendencies at bay.

The tenuous peace between the elf and his werewolf was gone. She had seen to that. He forced himself to relax and turned towards the door, hiding his tension.

Calrheane's hand lingered on the doorknob. "May I speak with you?"

It would be easier if their friendship never existed. He wouldn't gaze upon her and feel loss. He wouldn't yearn for her smile and laughter, all the while knowing it was a happiness he couldn't have.

"There is nothing to speak of. You made that quite clear."

Calrheane looked away. "Please, do not let things end like this."

"I suppose that depends on you and whether you're going to explain."

"I can't."

There was no anger at her words, just a weariness that settled on his soul. "So then why did you come? If you won't give me answers, then why?"

"I don't know. I just had to see you," Calrheane whispered.

Remus knew she had secrets; he would have been a fool to think not. The problem was her secrets connected to his past. "Did it mean anything to you?"

It was the one question that burned his mind, demanding an answer. Yet, now he wasn't sure if he wanted one. Calrheane would move on. He would be a memory.

"I had few companions in my life," she said. "I would have been lost without your kindness. This friendship means more than you know."

Remus stood and pushed his potion aside. "You have a sore way of showing it. Friendship is about trust and you don't trust me."

"That's not true."

"Then tell me something, anything." He held back the plea, refusing that she learn how much this hurt.

Calrheane closed her eyes and said nothing. Somehow, he wasn't surprised. Her ideals and secrets meant more than him.

"Then if that's all, I'll bid you a goodnight."

"Remus, please…"

"No," he cut her off. "Just go. I have nothing more to say to you."

Calrheane flinched at his words and hugged her stomach. There was nothing more that needed to be said. He gave her a chance that night, to explain what was happening. She refused and he walked away. Their friendship was over.

Remus turned and organized several scattered homework assignments. Fabric rustled and his dark blood settled, no longer fighting him. His hands shook, whether from keeping the werewolf at bay or his emotions, Remus didn't know.

Minutes passed and he stared at the papers, hoping they had the answers. Perhaps it was best to let go.

"You were right about me, Remus."

His breath caught and he whipped around. But how? Did she shield herself from him? That's not possible.

Calrheane stood in all her elf perfection. But even though her hair was immaculate, Remus now noticed the dark rims under her eyes and the stoop of her shoulders.

"I don't trust," she said and there was pride in her voice. "Even those who I was with for a thousand years, I held back from. That was my mistake."

This was nothing new. They had often spoke of the past, his and hers.

Calrheane stepped forward, her knuckles white as they clutched each other. "I want to tell you."

"Then why don't you? There's nothing holding you back."

She smiled, small with little happiness in it. "No, I suppose not. Shra gave her permission and I care nothing for the oath I swore to my kin."

First, she claimed the Vala bound her to silence and now she doesn't care. Perhaps this was a normal elven trait. Couldn't she see the simple path in front of her?

Remus rubbed his forehead, kneading away the coming headache. "You have a choice; you've always had a choice."

"The Vala and elves are not the reason I have kept silent. They were an excuse for my actions and the wrong I did you." Calrheane reached for him and then thought better of it, retracting her hand.

There was a change in her eyes, something he hadn't seen earlier. He recognized it – each time he gazed into a mirror he saw it. The knowledge that his life was forever bound to another, the werewolf. Never again, would Remus just be 'Remus.'

That realization shook him. He didn't want this truth, didn't want to live with that. Why did she ever come into his life? If there was no Calrheane Elessar, Remus wouldn't have looked into his heart. He would have been safe in ignorance.

"I want you to go."

There was power in those words. He felt lightheaded, elated. Or did he? Doubt – why should he doubt his feelings? There was something else, a dark strand that wrapped around his wrist.

He blinked. There was nothing there. Surely it was imagination.

"What?" she asked, taken aback.

Her concern sent warmth through him and he yearned for her touch, her smile. But he was a werewolf. Something tightened on his wrist.

Remus shoved aside her arm. He didn't care about her confusion. He just needed her gone. "Leave. I am no friend of yours."

Calrheane's eyes narrowed. "So, now you cannot stand my touch? My being near you?"

"Yes." No.

"Fine." Calrheane clenched her fists and did not look away. "It was my fear that held me back. Zirak would come for you. But I see that was a mistake."

Zirak, who was that? He held his tongue. It didn't matter if she told him anything now, it was too late.

"You wanted to know why I came here, why an elf willingly left paradise?" she asked. "It was the only choice I had."

"You call that a choice? You ran from your responsibility. The elves needed you and you left." How did he know that?

Calrheane gripped her necklace. "My fate is here, in this world, waiting for me."

"Waiting for you? Whatever you're here for, whoever you're seeking, won't care about humans. This Zirak will kill us to get to you."

The werewolf howled, a laughter that vibrated through him. His wrist throbbed.

"Where did this come from?"

Why was he so angry? Remus didn't know. He felt the need to snarl and fight, to let lose this power locked inside. His blood surged, the taint struggling to be free. Why was he fighting it?

Calrheane's eyes widened as she stared at him. "It has a hold over you; the werewolf."

"Don't be ridiculous," he sneered.

"It does." Her voice rose. "Remus, fight it. Please."

Good, let her feel desperate. He was alone. He was a werewolf – man and beast. The goblet flung itself across the room. No, wait. He did that. But when did he move his arm?

Calrheane lunged for him, a blur out of the corner of his eye. Remus stepped back, ready to fight. Her arms wrapped around him and his nails dug into her. The sweet smell of blood engulfed him.

Elven blood. How long had it been since he dined on something so fine?

No, Remus wanted to call out. This wasn't him.

_But it is you_. The words came from inside, from his tainted blood. _You are the darkness._ _You are mine._

Magic prickled against his senses. The elf's voice drifted in the air, a dreaded language he had spent an eternity hating.

Remus fought harder, or was it the werewolf?

"Zirak!" Calrheane cried. "Leave him be."

Malice. It surrounded him, soaking through his skin and reaching his heart.

The arms around his waist tightened. "I won't let you have him."

Through the hatred, he felt her emotion. It reached past the werewolf and the darkness that gripped his mind and touched his heart. It was gentle at first, but then became more insistent. He answered by holding it close, letting its warmth spread through his body.

His vision cleared and he saw her. Calrheane held him, face pressed against his chest. His grip on her loosened and she glanced up. Tears streaked her face.

"You don't belong to him, Remus."

Him? What was she talking about?

"What happened?" His voice was horse, as if it he'd been screaming.

"I almost lost you," she whispered, so low he barely heard.

Remus noticed his fingered were covered in blood. Automatically, he looked at Calrheane. Blood seeped through her sleeves – five little marks on each arm where his fingers punctured through.

He stumbled back. The werewolf, it had taken over.

"It's all right now." Calrheane gripped his hands. "No harm was done."

Blood smeared onto her hands.

"No. No. This not all right. I could've…" killed you, he finished. Why did this happen? What caused him to lose control?

"But you didn't. Remus, please don't pull away." She held his hands against his chest. "It wasn't your fault – it was mine. I said his name; I drew him to you."

Remus didn't believe her, and if the look in her eyes was any indication, she didn't either. "Who is he?"

"My enemy – the one I came here to defeat."

The truth, something she kept from him since the beginning. It was there for him to ask, to have all the explanations.

Remus removed her hands from his, eyes never once leaving the blood. "I am a werewolf."

"You are also human. As am I."

And that was where his weakness drew from – his realization that the werewolf and he were one and the same. No more denials.

"You should leave."

"I don't understand. Don't you want to know why this is happening?"

"I am not your concern." For the first time in years, Remus vowed not to be weak. He would fight this on his own, it was his struggle not hers.

"Very well." Their was reluctance in her eyes, a need to be with him and help.

Perhaps, finally, he would learn. Certain dreams like friendship, family and love, were banned from werewolves. But if he was honest with himself, he'd see that being a werewolf had nothing to do with this.

He let her go because that was all he could do, just as she turned her back and walked away.

* * *

Moonlight filtered through the dense covering of trees and caused the mist around Celeste to shimmer. The forest was silent like it had been three nights ago, not even insects disturbed the atmosphere.

Her dark eyes scanned through the trees, searching for any sign of the one who had attacked them. She smelled the taint. Tree spirits withered under the power of the one who now walked this forest. Great One would not last much longer if he continued without rest.

Her spirit ached and it took all her energy to stand, but at least they were safe.

Star leaned against a nearby tree, eyes closed. His white fur glistened and his mane lay across his eyes. The deep and even breaths comforted her; perhaps this night he would sleep without any nightmares.

Despite her exhaustion, she sent a wave of healing into him. Star glowed for several seconds and the small cuts disappeared.

Celeste was not powerful among her kin and had been surprised when Great One had chosen her. Yet, she had survived the pregnancy. The unicorns had expected her to die, taking their one treasure, the son of Great One.

She stretched her front legs. Each day they drew closer to the centaur's clearing, until then she would continue without rest. The risk to her son was too great, even if she needed to recuperate.

Great One was nowhere to be found, but she had expected that. The injury to the Forest would have left him weak, forcing him to rest or lose his spirit.

Celeste would rely on her own strength. She needed to learn why this evil was after her son. The centaurs had the gift of the stars; she prayed they could help.

Tiny beads of sweat dotted across Star's face and his eyes moved underneath his eyelids. The even tones of his breath changed to a sharp rasp as he fought for air.

No, not again.

"_Star?_" she nudged him. "_Love, wake. You must leave the dream world_."

Minutes passed and still Star struggled, his horn dimming under the power of the nightmare.

"_Star_," she called again and panic gripped her.

Star's eyes shot open and he was on his feet faster than she could blink. His muscles were tense, ready to spring at the slightest movement.

Every night was the same. All Celeste could do was stand there, unable to ease her son. "_Star Dancer, wake. You're safe now_."

His eyes focused on her. "_Mother_?"

"_Yes, love, I have you now. You're safe_."

"_I dreamed again_," he said, his voice shaking. "_I don't want to dream anymore; I don't want to see her."_

Celeste's heart beat faster. This was the first he had ever spoken of it.

Could the dream and the evil one be connected? It was rare for a unicorn to have nightmares, only the Elders did and that was because the horrors of the Ages remained with them.

"_Who is she_?" the words came out before she could stop them.

Star pushed away and glared at the ground. "_The elf_," Star said his voice harsh, "_that's who I see_."

If it was possible for her heart to stop, Celeste was sure hers just did. An elf, it couldn't be true. They were vile beings that cared nothing but their own kind. Her son couldn't be dreaming of one!

"_How can you see an elf? They no longer walk these lands_." She prayed that Star would agree.

"_You wanted to know_," he snapped.

"_Yes, love, I did. But surely it is nothing. Elves are gone; they will never return to these lands."_

"_Is it true what the trees are saying?" _Star asked instead, his voice now having dropped to a whisper_. "Did one come back_?"

Yes, she had heard the rumors but refused to believe them. Perhaps, that's where she was wrong, allowing her prejudice to blind her. There were too many coincidences, an elf returning, her son and now this evil.

"_I do not know love_."

A memory, long forgotten, bubbled at the corner of her mind. A young wizard had come crashing through her special glade, his form hidden in the disguise of a stag.

Why then had she done what no other would have and spoke to a human? Why did she let go of the old hatred to understand the boy's pain? And now her heart screamed that she run with her son, taking him to the ends of the earth, away from the elf.

"_Come, Star, we're leaving_."

No, she would not give into fear. Great One had chosen her, tasking her with the protection of his son. Celeste would not run like the other unicorns.

"_Where are we going?"_

"_To see the centaurs_."

Star kicked a small tree with his hind legs and thrashed his head. "_Even after I told you? I won't stay here! I refuse to be anywhere near her. We should leave this Forest and find some place safe_."

"_There will never be a safe place. The evil one will follow_." She tried to be soothing, but the strain to hold back her frustration grated on her depleted strength. She did not have the energy to argue.

"_We'll be fine on our own, and we have Great One looking out for us."_

"_Star, I can't protect you_."

Her words froze the unicorn and he lowered his head. "_Yes you can_. _Mother, you can do anything."_

Celeste came forward and nuzzled her son's neck. "_Pretending will achieve nothing. My spirit is failing; I will not be able to protect you from him a second time_."

"_Why though? Why is this happening? Why does he want me?"_

"_I don't know. I only pray to the stars that the centaurs do_."


	11. Elf, Dog, Dementor

Chapter 11

Elf, Dog, Dementor

Sirius growled in frustration. The storm made his sense of smell worthless, making it impossible to tell when someone was near.

"Come on, Hermione, the game already started!"

"Ron, honestly, I don't know what your rush is," a girl yelled. "We're not even five minutes late. I highly doubt Harry caught the snitch, especially in this weather!"

The two students came into view, running up the stairs. The girl tugged at her raincoat, pulling the hood further down. The red-haired boy wore no protection, having already accepted his fate.

"It's your bloody cat's fault. If you hadn't insisted on finding the fleabag we would have seen the opening take off."

"Crookshanks doesn't have fleas and you've seen Harry take off a dozen times."

"I don't care! Let's just go." The boy, Ron, grabbed Hermione's arm and dragged her up the stairs.

Sirius tilted his head to the side. Could they be Harry's friends? And that boy, he looked familiar. Was he the same boy holding Peter in the photograph? He'd worry about the details later.

Sirius raced up the stairs, passing the entranceway the two had gone through. Thunder roared, causing the wooden planks to shake. He reached the top and trotted to the edge of the stands.

An umbrella collided against the wet railing. Rain pelted him from all directions and stung his eyes.

Where was Harry? The players sped by, their soaked robes flapping. Circling above the field was Harry.

Sirius ran along the stands, giving into the joy at seeing Harry. James, you would be so proud, he thought.

Harry ducked beneath the Ravenclaw seeker and dodged a bludger. Forked lightening flashed behind Sirius. The fur on his back rose from the static.

Harry's momentum halted, grinding to a stop. He stared right at Sirius. The moment passed as quickly as it came, the storm's darkness shrouding the field. Sirius escaped into the stairway just as another bolt illuminated the sky. His paws thudded against the wood, drumming in beat with the storm.

How could he be so stupid? Hadn't he learned that time in the alley?

The chill area sunk into his bones and he paused. His happiness dissolved, replaced by an empty void. Mist blew from his nose and his heart raced.

They were here.

Sirius crept to an opening. Harry trailed behind the Ravenclaw seeker. Using the wind gusts to propel him forward, Harry gained on his opponent.

A black shape materialized behind the two. Hundreds of dementors were on the field, floating toward the center. Sirius held his breath as Harry's reached for the snitch. Another dementor appeared and Harry to dodged left.

Following instinct, Sirius raced down the stairs. There was nothing he could do, but that didn't matter. Harry needed him.

Students screamed and he dove underneath the bleachers. The field came into view and his momentum carried him forward. He dug his claws into the ground, trying to grip something when he slammed into a wooden beam.

His shoulder throbbed, for a moment he couldn't move. No, not now. There was nothing, no sound or color, only fear registered in Sirius's mind.

Harry wavered on his broom, his hands slipping and he tumbled down.

No! Sirius's leg collapsed under his weight as he tried to move.

A white shield shot from a wand, piercing the ring of dementors. Sirius turned and saw Dumbledore, his white beard unmistakable as he stood on the field. But the spell failed, fading from existence just as it reached the throng of dementors. They inched closer, gathering where Harry would fall.

What was going on? Why didn't the patronus work?

"_We are beyond your powers old wizard_. _Your magic does not bind us._"

The crystal phial warmed Sirius's fur and he knew instinctively who was here.

Sure enough, Elessar rushed past Dumbledore. Impulse told him to attack, to avenge Lily and James. She knew, repeated in his mind.

The dementors twisted their dark hoods, following her movement. Ice crunched beneath him as he moved – this display of power, he'd never felt anything like it before. Not once did his time in Azkaban compare.

Sirius scanned the wooden beams, looking for anything he could use. A lump formed in his stomach. A dementor floated towards Elessar, beckoning with its boney hands.

Elessar halted before the approaching dementor. If Dumbledore couldn't drive them off then she didn't stand a chance, elf or not.

"Stand down," Elessar commanded.

The dementor continued, not heeding her words.

"You are a wraith," Elessar said. You were created in likeness of the Nazgûl. Leave the boy."

The dementor cupped Elessar's chin. Ice formed on her skin, tendrils of crystal that expanded. "_There is nothing you can do, half-elf. Your powers are weak; you fear to destroy the prison holding our master. He will reward me for delivering your spirit_."

"Then I release you from his service."

White light shot from Elessar's necklace, slicing through the dementors and lit the darkened field. High pitched wails filled the air and shock waves knocked Sirius back. The roars of the thunderstorm mixed with the screams. Dementors escaped the pillar of light, frantic, their order broken.

Harry descended in the light's center and landed gently on the ground. Sirius sighed, relief overwhelming him. Harry was safe.

The light faded and Elessar stumbled. Just as she was about to fall, Dumbledore grabbed her arm, steadying her.

The ice on her cheeks dissolved with the rain, but she gave no notice to it. Instead she knelt next to Harry, her hand brushing his face. "Harry, here me. The darkness has fled, do not give into despair."

At that moment, Sirius realized something. She was not speaking English. Was that elvish?

His paws squished in the mud. That must be why he understood her – he was a dog! Why hadn't he thought of it sooner?

Elessar glanced at Dumbledore, her face once more emotionless. Dumbledore waved his wand and Harry lifted onto an invisible stretcher.

Sirius's heart pounded. Would Harry be alright?

Elessar stood, her dress covered in mud. Rain streamed down her face and she seemed lost in thought. Or maybe not thought, but time.

The necklace was where the light came from, but it didn't appear to be a source of power like a wand, not the way it had drained her. And who had the dementor spoken of, this master that wanted Elessar's spirit?

Sirius knew from Azkaban that dementors answered to no one, though they pretended the Ministry controlled them. Was there another power they didn't know about?

Sirius sank to the ground, his energy gone. He almost lost Harry today, and again he did nothing.

Teachers ran onto the field. A little late now. The dementors were gone and Harry was safe. Who else would protect Harry if not them? But that really wasn't true. Someone had saved Harry, even if he hated to admit it. But then why did she let James and Lily die?

Elessar walked past the teachers. Many stopped, unsure what to do. She acknowledged none, just made her way through the rain alone.

Sirius wanted her to suffer, to feel the pain and loneliness he had endured in Azkaban. A part of him, however, couldn't help but admire her. The dementors affected her, just like a human, and yet she had come to Harry's aid.

He studied her until she disappeared in the dark of the storm. Was it possible that something haunted her the way his mistake haunted him? That couldn't be true. Someone who sacrificed another in cold blood could never feel remorse.


	12. The Demon Revolt

Disclaimer: I will be using one character from the anime "Inuyasha" in several chapters. Sesshomaru and all reference to Inuyasha characters aren't mine.

Chapter 12

The Demon Revolt

"Al lright, time's up. Please put down your quills," Remus stated.

A few students groaned while others finished. Then there was Hermione, who read a book because she'd finished a half hour ago. Remus waved his wand, summoning the parchments to his desk.

"But, Professor Lupin, I wasn't done with a sentence." Seamus grabbed at his exam and missed.

"I'm sorry, Seamus, I gave you ample time." He tucked his wand in his pocket and noticed the threading was coming undone.

Shra stretched on the floor, waking from her short nap. She had taken to him these past few months, though lately her presence became more of a distraction. It was a reminder about the friendship he'd lost.

Remus shook his head and pushed aside those thoughts. They both made a choice. It wouldn't do any good to dwell on the past. Yet, this hollow feeling wouldn't leave.

"That's it for today, you can all go." Remus clasped his hands behind his back.

Cheers erupted and Remus chuckled. That was a wonderful thing about his students - they had the power to change someone's mood with the simplest action or smile. There were memories of his friends acting the same way. He would remember those good times, treasuring them for what they were, four friends having fun.

Perhaps Hogwarts was finally showing what he needed, the ability to let go. What Sirius had done was unforgivable, but Remus couldn't let his life be ruled by that hatred.

The students packed their quills; some talked in excited voices while others moaned about a question they had gotten wrong. Hermione raised her hand. "Actually, Professor, I have a question."

"Can't you wait until after we leave?" Ron whined.

"This is important!" Hermione glared at him.

"Hermione, go ahead," Remus said.

"We've already been excused." Lavender put her bag back down.

"Leave it to Granger to keep us here longer," Draco snapped.

"No, no," Remus said. "If she thinks it's important then let's hear her. I'm sure it won't take long."

Hermione pulled out a recent copy of the _Dailey Prophet_. "This _is_ important and I'm sick of everyone pretending it didn't happen."

"We're not pretending," Dean said in an off-hand tone. He didn't look at the newspaper. "No one likes talking about it, that's all."

"Well I'm tired of it!" Hermione's face flushed from frustration. "Demons exist; they live with us and are apart of this world!"

Remus placed a calming hand on Hermione's shoulder. He took the newspaper and glanced at the headline, "Falling to the Blood." He had read the article last week, though the facts were inaccurate. He expected no less from _Prophet_ reporters, especially Rita Skeeter.

"Is this true?" he asked the class. "You won't talk about this?"

None of his students met his eye.

"I see." Remus handed the paper back to Hermione.

The subject of demons was another one of those black areas in wizard history, the ones that many preferred to forget. This approach solved nothing and only made the peace between the two races that much more difficult. In order to bring change, his students needed to understand. He'd been hoping to wait until their fourth year, but Hermione was right.

"Hermione, please read the article, in case there were some who didn't."

Hermione nodded. "_On Halloween night, several demons took it upon themselves to renew the War from five hundred years ago. Demon Exterminators, our wonderful branch within the Hunter guild, were dispatched to handle the situation. Thankfully only three civilians were killed. _

_Ministry officials were in an uproar over this incident and have been working with the Demon Council. The Minister, Cornelius Fudge, has assured us that war is the last thought on everyone's mind._

_The head of the Demon Council, Lord Sesshomaru of Japan, had no comments though his associate had this to say, "The Lords know what caused demons to revert to their blood. The situation is being dealt with. However, the mindless killing of innocent demons by the Exterminators is unacceptable." _

Unfortunately, such words do not bring comfort to this reporter, who requires proof that demons are not using this incident to restart the War. It is clear that the silent and manipulative Lord Sesshomaru has plans to take back the demon's place within the world. This reporter would also like to point that there is no such thing as an 'innocent' demon. All demons exterminated were guilty, regardless of their association to those who turned primal."

Hermione put the paper down on her desk. "That's all of it."

"Thank you, Hermione," Remus said and then addressed the class. "Now, what do you think?"

Remus walked between the desks, patiently waiting for someone to speak up. Most grew up with the belief of how evil and untrustworthy demons were. They couldn't help continuing this conception when their families didn't tell them the reasons behind the war.

Draco Malfoy crossed his arms against his chest. "What does it matter? This is an attempt by the demons to destroy us all. They want War."

A couple students nodded. The comment from Draco was not unexpected. After all, he'd been raised by his father, Lucius.

"So you believe this was part of their master plan?" Remus inquired.

"Of course."

"I don't think that's the case at all," Harry said.

"Is that right Potter?" Draco snapped. "Oh, I forgot. You are an experton the wizarding world. So tell us, what do you think?"

Harry's eyes narrowed, the only sign that Draco's comment got to him. When he spoke it was in a controlled voice. "Why would they want to go to war? They have their lands and community intact."

"Please, demons don't care about land or each other," Draco replied. "If wizards hadn't stood up, demons would still be killing each other."

Though it was good that they were at least talking about the subject, Remus decided it was time he stepped in. "In order to understand what's happening now, especially the political side, you need to understand what really happened during the Demon War."

"This is stupid." Draco grabbed his bag. "If I want history I'll pay attention in History of Magic class. The exam is over, I'm leaving."

"Mr. Malfoy," Remus said, his voice deep and rang with authority.

Draco stopped and glanced behind him. Shocked expressions were on the other students' faces, but no one said anything.

"You will go back to your seat. After class please see me."

Draco's snorted, but did not move.

Remus remained still. "You can choose to have this talk with me or in the company of the Headmaster."

Anger flashed across Draco's face and he stormed back to his seat, dropping his bag onto the table.

"Now, as I was saying," Remus continued, "no war is ever as black and white as you've been taught. The Demon War is no exception. Does anyone know how it began?"

Hermione squirmed in her seat but did not raise her hand.

"Very well. In the past demons fought each other to establish who was the most powerful. Muggles were beneath their notice and magic-folk were left alone. It was a shaky peace, but one neither side wanted to break."

"If they lived so peacefully why did the demons attack our kind?" asked Dean.

"Have you heard of the Shikon Jewel, also called 'the Jewel of Four Souls? No? It was a powerful Japanese artifact that fell into the hands of half-demon named Naraku about 500 years ago, just before the war. This particular demon was cunning and used the jewel to kill thousands. He was the one who started the war."

"That can't be possible," Ron stated. "How can one man, umm demon, start a war that lasted a hundred years?"

"You kill off the right person and get a chain event," Hermione said. "If you're smart enough to work two powers you'll come out on top."

Remus nodded. "Naraku killed the Japanese wizard emperor and placed the blame on the demon lords. It didn't matter that Naraku was considered a rogue demon and not part of the political structure. War was the result and the battles spread to the rest of the world.

"It wasn't until the end that demons mobilized as one force, but it wasn't to fight. It was for peace. You see, the war began from the actions of one demon, not all."

"But why would our parents tell us something that isn't the truth?" Dean asked.

"Fear." It was the only way Remus knew how to answer, with the truth. "Even now there is fear of 'what if.' What if the demons had united but not for peace? What would happen if there was another war?"

This was the fear that haunted parents and children even in this age. Demons were stronger and faster, able to absorb wizard magic to a certain limit. This wasn't even counting demons that took the form of a 'human' whose true forms were terrible to behold.

"Hermione's right." Harry glanced at the students around him. "We can't continue to think with all this prejudice otherwise another war will start."

Remus watched in wonder as the Gryffindors, and even a few several Slytherins, nodded. Harry was more like James than he realized; the sort of charisma that swayed crowds was a talent that James had wielded many times.

"What do you mean?" asked Seamus.

"Demons don't want war because in the long run they'll die," Harry said.

Hermione jumped in, no longer able to sit still. "They might be powerful and resistant to magic, but they don't reproduce often and it takes years for them to mature. We would outlast them."

"Exactly," Remus said. "Both sides wanted to survive." He waved his hand towards the _Daily Prophet_. "Articles like this destroy that relationship."

Hermione folded the paper out on the desk. "The reporter might be biased, but there are other things to be concerned about. Like what caused the demons to lose control."

"What does that mean when a demon gives into their blood?" asked Harry.

Ah, so finally someone asked the right question. Unfortunately for Remus, this particular topic drove too close to home.

"Actually, it's very similar to when a werewolf turns feral." Remus spoke in a strong voice not betraying his unease.

Ron scratched his head. "Feral, what's that?"

"I was under the impression that Professor Snape had already covered werewolves," Remus said.

"He did," Hermione answered, "but we ran out of time."

"I see." Remus took a deep breath. "The blood within a werewolf is tainted, a darkness that will eventually consume the human. This process is known as turning feral."

"Is it true, that transforming once a month regulates the human and the werewolf?" Hermione asked though her eyes would not meet his

"Correct, unfortunately, with each transformation the taint strengthens, building for that moment when it will take over."

"So how is that similar to a demon?" she asked.

"Demons also have a primal state. When they lose control all conscious disappears and are driven by the need to kill. They will not stop until they are destroyed. This only happens, however, with lesser demons."

"That's odd," Dean commented, "my parents said that all demons can go primal."

"Demons that take a humanoid form, like Lord Sesshomaru," Remus indicated the newspaper, "will never lose control. They are simply born with that control over their blood. They can change into their true form, but will not become a mindless killing machine."

"And you want to be buddies with them?" Draco sneered. "They are killers and should be exterminated, not roaming around free."

"People like you who caused the war in the first place," Hermione snapped. Harry placed a restraining hand on her arm and she immediately calmed. "If we can't be considerate to the lifestyles of others then all we'll do is fight."

"That is enough from both you." Remus held up his hands. "Hermione, sit down please."

Draco leaned back and glared at Remus. The Slytherins in general kept nodding in Draco's direction while the Gryffindors wore angry expressions. Harry glanced at his hand that was still on Hermione's arm, and jerked back.

"If you refuse to learn then you're always going to be afraid of what you don't understand," Remus said.

"Well, they're dangerous," Dean point out.

Remus nodded. "Oh yes, they are dangerous but then Muggles are dangerous too when they use their technology. Are you saying that all Muggles should be destroyed because of what they can do?"

This had the reaction that he was hoping for. The students shifted in their seats and several looked ashamed at the floor.

"That's what I thought," Remus continued. "The same idea is applied to demons. There are some who desire the annihilation of humans, but there are wizards who wish for Muggles and Muggle-born to be destroyed as well."

Remus smelled their fear, hanging about the room like a thick cloud. His senses were heightened from the full moon even though a few days had passed. They might have been willing to talk about demons and werewolves, but apparently Voldemort was something they were unable to face.

"I believe we addressed Hermione's point. You're free to go. I will have your exam scored by next week."

Relief washed over Remus and the fear dissipated as if it hadn't been there in the first place.

"Mr. Malfoy." Remus called.

Draco's eyebrows drew towards his nose. "Go, I'll meet up with you later," Draco said to Crabe and Goyle. The two boys nodded and gave Remus a nasty glare before leaving the room. Hermione brushed past them, weaving in between the rows of desks.

"Professor," she said coming towards him. "I just well wanted to say thank you."

"I understand." And the truth was he did. A Muggle-born fighting against prejudices of their world, but unlike many others willing to change the accepted perspectives. Lily shared that same desire and stubbornness. Perhaps one day he would share that with her.

"What you did wasn't easy, but that's the first step and your friends will be behind you the entire way."

Hermione smiled and looked over where Ron and Harry were waiting for her. "I know." She turned and hesitated. "Do you think one day everyone will be equal in our world?"

Remus sighed. As a child he had asked his parents that same question. He could still see the pained look as they answered, "_Of course, sweetheart."_ He was an adult now and Hermione was no child. She knew the answer before she had asked it.

"I don't know, but it's something to believe in."

"Yeah, it's better than nothing I suppose."

Draco sauntered to Remus, a smug expression on his face. "Can we get this over with? I've got stuff I need to do."

"For Monday morning you will hand in three rolls of parchment on Demon War, specifically the significance of Japan's involvement. Is that understood?"

"What?" Draco yelled. "You can't do that!"

"If you disrupt my class in such a manner again I will take this matter to the Headmaster. Disapproving of another student's opinion is one thing, but you are required to show that student respect regardless of your feelings. Do I make myself clear?"

"Yes, sir." Draco stormed out muttering, "Ridiculous class and shabby teacher. Wait till my father hears about this."

It appeared that Dumbledore would be getting another series of complaints about his teachers. In this regard, Remus was happy that he could join Calrheane in attempting to shake the old conceptions.

His thoughts wandered to that night when everything changed. She had said the world was changing and then several demons gave into their blood. Now Hermione was challenging the blatant prejudice in class.

Remus shook his head. The world was changing, but he doubted this is what Calrheane had referred to. Or maybe it was the stirring in the water, waiting for that stone to be thrown if it hadn't already.


	13. Map's Memories

Through Darkness and Light

Chapter 13

Map's Memories

The scratching of Hermoine's quill against the parchment was the only indication there was someone in the library's corner. For years this spot had been deserted, not even those students looking for a quiet place to snog ventured here. Whether it was the oppressive silence or some other reason, Hermione didn't know. She was grateful for its sanctuary.

A fortress of books surrounded her with just enough space for a parchment. Wind pounded on the nearby window and every few minutes a sharp whistle resonated, air that slipped underneath the glass. Hermione had requested several times to Flich that he fix the alignment problem.

Hermione chewed on her bottom lip as she flipped through a reference book looking for the precise attributes of a lockbard's root hairs. Nothing. This book only covered monocot plants, not ferns or intermediaries. Figures that Snape would give them a homework assignment on a plant that had yet to be classified with definite data.

She sighed and tossed her quill down. No matter how hard she tried, she just couldn't focus. Was she coming down with something? She felt her forehead. No fever. Then what was wrong with her?

Except that she already knew and it had nothing to do with her health. She couldn't stop thinking about Harry. Ever since that trip to Hogsmeade he had distanced himself from Ron and her. It was almost as if he was reminded of something when he looked at them and Hermione could see the anger in Harry's eyes, but pain as well.

This wouldn't make the truth hurt any less and revenge wouldn't bring his parents back. She just wished that he would open up; tell her what he was feeling just so he could get it off his chest.

To think Harry's own godfather was the reason his parents were dead. How could Dumbledore and the Ministry keep that from him? Harry had a right to know.

Maybe she should have told Harry about her conversation with Elessar a few weeks ago, it might have prepared him. At least then he would have known that the Ministry had ordered the teachers to keep silent about the reasons for Black's imprisonment.

A folded piece of brown parchment peeked out from her back. Her hands moved off their own accord. She took the old, fraying paper and unfolded the map. If her thoughts weren't on Harry or school, they were on this piece of history that the world had forgotten.

The fact that Elessar had given her this treasure surprised Hermione. Why did Elessar give this to her? The one student who outright distrusted.

Elvish script flowed neatly underneath the words '_Middle-Earth_.' Her fingers trailed across the map's surface. This map was nearly 3,000 years old. Even now that thought sent chills through her.

A trace of magic brushed against Hermione. What was that? She felt it again, a soft brush against her senses. Hermione relaxed her mind, like Elessar had taught them, and opened herself up to the _fëa _current.

There were timesduring the evening when she could sense the _fëa _around her even though she couldn't see. However, this was the first time she got this feeling during the day.

"Strange," Hermione mumbled to herself. The current felt different today, almost as if the spirits were more defined. Why was it so easy to access?

Hermione let go _fëa _current. Everything was all right, perhaps she was just advancing more than she thought. Maybe if she ran into Elessar she would mention it. Maybe.

Something on the map caught her eye. There were marking in the bottom of left corner. That wasn't possible. She couldn't have overlooked something like that, not after 3 weeks of studying it. Hermione leaned closer. The color was off and appeared to be faded ink.

Hermione dug through her backpack and found her magnifying glass. She was right. Looking closer, her nose nearly touching the parchment, she saw that they were words.

"A journey alone," she read out loud. What did that mean?

She scanned the map and recognized other similar spots with faded writing. Why would Elessar write on her map? Was it even Elessar's writing?

Near the forest labeled Fangorn, Hermione studied a set of imprints. It was darker than the others, somehow preserved better or were more recent.

"Loss." Hermione jerked back. "What...?"

The script glowed, a pulsing white light that flowed as if someone were retracing the words. The world dissolved, colors changing into the parchment's aged brown. The map distorted and the blurry outlines of trees appeared.

Her mind screamed to pull back, to close her eyes and dispel whatever power was taking a hold on her, but she didn't. What's was going on?

Two figures emerged from the mist and the haze clung to their forms as they walked towards her. They were of the same height and build. A breeze swept past and their hair moved the same way.

"Who are you?" Hermione whispered.

They drew closer and she squinted, trying to make out their features. It was clear by their shape that they were men, but she had never seen anyone wearing that style of clothes. Clasped about their throats were cloaks woven from a fine material that shimmered in the filtered light.

"Tunics?" she asked aloud. No one wore tunics anymore, not for the last few hundred years. Hermione's knees shook with that thought. This was Elessar's map.

"Is this her memory?" No sooner did she ask that question then their features cleared and her mouth dropped. Elves.

They were everything and more she had imagined, unlike Professor Elessar who had hints of modernization about her; time had not tampered with these elves. They moved with a grace dreamed of and held a beauty she saw even in this colorless world.

There was movement to the right and another person materialized, wearing a similar style of clothing. Hermione's eyes went wide. "Professor?"

The change was astounding. Instead of Elessar's face being a mask of indifference, now Hermione saw a torrent of emotions. There was anger mingled in with hurt as Elessar watched the two approaching elves.

"Hello, little niece." The elf to the left spoke, his voice emotionless and cold.

"Elladan," Elessar replied. Her gaze flicked to the other elf. "Elrohir."

The one named Elrohir nodded, a smile gracing his lips. "It warms my heart to see you safe, Calrheane."

Elessar stood there, her hands clenched. "You have never concerned yourselves with my welfare. Why have you come here?"

Hermione hadn't seen this raw anger from her teacher. In fact she had been under the belief that feelings were beyond Elessar, a human trait that she lacked.

"That is hardly the welcome I expected towards your uncles." Some emotion flashed across Elladan's eyes, to fast for Hermione to recognize. "Though that is to be expected considering you were raised by one mortal guardian."

"Elladan." Elrohir gripped his brother's arm and shook his head.

"My apologies," Elladan said to his brother. Hermione noticed he didn't speak those words to Elessar.

"Why are you here?" Elessar asked.

"Your father," Elrohir said stepping closer to Elessar. "He is dying. Arwen asked that we seek you out."

Elessar stepped back and shook her head. "That can't be."

"The king is dying and will not last the next new moon, Arwen will soon follow him." Elladan's voice was deep and unforgiving. "She has chosen to remain with Aragorn even in death." He turned around, cloak billowing out behind him as he disappeared into the mist. "I will see you in Valinor niece."

Elrohir tarried, his eyes remaining on Elessar. After a moment he reached out and his fingers brushed her cheek.

Unshed tears filled Elessar's eyes as she pulled away. "I don't need your comfort or kindness."

"Calrheane, I..."

"Chose not to give it when I was alone and feared; when I needed it most," she snapped, her voice tinged with hurt. "And both of you, half-elves, were the only ones who understood. But you will always follow Elladan, and I have accepted that."

The scene before Hermione became distorted and the images blurred. The power that brought her to this place left and it felt like her energy was sucked from her. With strength she didn't realize she had, Hermione shut her eyes and forced her body back, away from the map she knew rested so innocently on the table in front of her.

Her chair rocked back and she gripped the table to keep from falling. She breathed, filling her lungs with as much air as possible. What was that?

"Hermione?" a voice asked, worry and concern prominent in his tone.

She blinked. "Harry?"

"Are you all right?" Harry stood beside one of the bookcases frowning at her.

"Yes, I'm fine." She waved him off as he came towards her.

"Are you sure you're alright?" A dark sweater had replaced his regular school robes and she noticed a pair of gloves sticking out of his front pocket. "You didn't hear me calling your name; it was as if you were in some kind of trance."

"A trance, no it was nothing like that. I was just so engrossed in my work that's all."

"You look pale." Harry pulled a chair across from her.

"Really, I'm alright. And besides, I _did _hear you calling my name, it just took awhile for you to get through." She did her best to smile, hoping to relieve Harry of his worries.

She couldn't tell him what happened; it was just too personal. Heck, she felt like she had intruded and even if she didn't like or trust Elessar, that was her memories. Hermione had no right to tell Harry about them.

But what had happened? Why was she able to see that memory in the first place? Elessar wouldn't have given her this map if her memory could be seen. Or did she?

Hermione felt like yanking her hair. And of course all the while Harry sat there staring at her with that concerned look on his face. Her mouth snapped shut as she realized that the map was still in front of her. If he saw it, then that would lead to questions she didn't want to answer. Harry would know only one person Hermione could get a map like that from.

"So Harry, what are you doing here anyway? You normally stay clear of the library; or at least this part." The books in front of her blocked Harry's view. Carefully, so as not to attract his notice, she slid her potion's assignment out from underneath the map

He sighed and ran a hand through his hair. "I was actually looking for you."

"You were?" Hermione's hands stilled, leaving the parchment half visible. Her heart thudded and she fought to control her breathing.

"I'm sorry for the way I've been acting. I didn't know what to do. I guess I wanted to be alone."

"Ron and I both understand, but you can't let it eat you up like this. I know you need space but forgetting your life isn't going to bring them back."

"I know." Harry sighted. "I can't get Sirius Black out of my head, of what he did."

"If I was in your shoes I'd probably be handling it worse, but you're not alone." She smiled, hoping to give him the comfort he needed.

Harry smirked. "You? No, you'd keep a clear and level head like you always do. But I just needed some time, now though, I guess that's why I was looking for you; I just needed to talk."

"I'll always be there." Hermione dropped her parchment and reached across the stack of books, accidentally knocking several over as she squeezed his hand.

"Thanks." His eyes trailed down to the table and frowned. "What is that?"

Hermione froze and panic swept through her as she let go of his hand. "What's what?"

"That." He stood up a pushed aside her books, opening a pathway straight to her exposed map. Harry picked it up and his eyes narrowed as he examined it.

"Oh that, it's nothing really."

"Hermione, this isn't nothing. Where did you get this? This looks like what Elessar has up in..." he trailed off and he looked at her. "What is this?"

She knew that one question held within it about a dozen others. Why did Elessar give it to her; why didn't she tell him; why did she lie to him? And she had no idea what to say. She didn't even understand why she hadn't told Harry in the first place. It wasn't like she had something to hide and yet here she was doing just that.

"Really, it's nothing. Just a map Elessar gave me." She knew that was the wrong thing to say before the words even left her mouth.

Harry needed her trust, needed to feel like she was there for him, and she just went and did the opposite. What was wrong with her?

"Is that right?" Harry leaned back, his eyes never once leaving hers.

"I didn't tell you because it didn't seem important."

"You talked with her?"

"Yeah."

"About Black?" Harry prompted.

Hermione nodded. There was no sense keeping that from him; not even Ron would be thick enough to believe that Hermione had a conversation with Professor Elessar without bringing up Sirius Black.

"And you didn't tell me?"

"I was going to, but there didn't seem like any point. I asked Elessar if she gave Black the phial and she wouldn't give me any kind of answer. All she admitted too was having secrets and that the Ministry was keeping something from you."

"And you didn't feel that was important enough to tell me?"

"No." She hated herself even as she said that one simple word, but lying wouldn't help her out now. The truth was at the time there was no point in telling Harry, nothing she assumed that could have been gained by what Elessar said. Obviously, she was wrong.

"We knew that the Ministry was keeping something from you about Sirius Black," Hermione reasoned. "Mr. Weasley much said that to you at the beginning of term. If Elessar had said something, anything about Black, I would have told you."

Harry bowed his head and placed the map back on the table. "You know what? Just forget it."

"Wait Harry!"

"I'll see you around." Giving her one last look, Harry walked back through the aisles.

"Please, I'm sorry." Hermione's knees shook and she slid down into her chair.

The map lay on the table where Harry had placed it, but the curiosity she had felt earlier was gone, replaced by an empty feeling. Why couldn't she just tell him the truth? Why was she so confused?

"This is that stupid elf's fault! If she hadn't given me the map in the first place I wouldn't have lied to Harry. And what was I even protecting? Her feelings? I don't even like her!" Her arm darted out and knocked over a stack of books.

Except it wasn't Elessar's fault. It was hers.


	14. Winter Wonderland

Through Darkness and Light

Chapter 14

Winter Wonderland

White powder covered the ground, adding to the snowfall from three nights ago. Hermione would have given anything to see a hint of green or red, even the stone walls that matched the season.

"Why did we come out here?" Hermione rubbed her hands together, but it did nothing to warm her.

"Why don't you tell me? It was your bloody idea." Ron wrapped his knitted scarf around his neck.

"My idea? You were the one who suggested it!"

"Yeah, and why did you listen?"

Hermione breathed in. Every conversation was like this. He just had to argue with her. "Look, as long as we're here let's look for Harry."

"You need to make up your mind." Ron mumbled. "Go in, stay out, pick one."

"Oh, forget it." She stormed towards the Quidditch field. Why did Ron insist on coming? She needed to talk with Harry, to explain.

Snow crunched as she walked and she shook her head. Why didn't she tell him the truth? It was only a stupid map.

Ron stomped behind her and kicked a mound of snow into the air, pelting her back. "Err, sorry about that."

"It's fine." Hermione brushed off the snow and continued on. For now she would ignore Ron. And Elessar's memory, would she ignore that as well? She had seen Elessar, but that wasn't the Professor she knew.

Hermione wanted to scream. Nothing made sense. Harry was her friend. She should have told him the truth.

"Hey, are you feeling alright?"

"Yes."

"Uh, right. If you say so."

No footprints, no sign of anyone passing this way. She was wasting time. If only Harry had let her explain instead of storming out the common room. He wouldn't even look at her.

Ron clutched the nape of his jacket closed. "We should probably go back. Harry's not out here."

"All right." The cold seeped through her boots and she shivered. This was her fault.

They followed their path back and Ron glanced at the Quidditch field. "I talked with Wood today. He said Harry missed the last three practices. I don't know what Harry's playing at, but he needs to be careful. Gryffindor needs their Seeker."

That's right, all life revolved around Quidditch. "So you agree? You're more concerned about winning than what Harry's going through?"

"No way, Harry will get through this dementor thing in no time."

Hermione sighed. "That wasn't what I meant."

"Why do you think Harry's been avoiding us?"

He wasn't avoiding you, Hermione wanted to say. Instead she shrugged. She hid the truth, had lied to him. Wonderful timing too. Why couldn't she have waited until after Sirius Black was captured?

Then again, she hadn't meant for Harry to see the map. That was the problem.

Ron sprinted ahead when they neared the school. "Let's get inside. Come on, Hermione!"

She followed Ron through the door and stomped her feet to loosen the snow. Torches fluttered back and forth, the dim light bringing Hermione no comfort. Their feet echoed in the deserted hall.

"Well, back to where we started," Ron said. "I wish Harry had the sense to stay inside near some nice warm fire."

Neville turned down the hallway and waved when he saw them. A book was pressed against his chest. "Hermione! I've been looking for you everywhere."

"Oh really?" Ron's eyebrows lifted.

The best way to handle Ron was to ignore him. Three years and she finally figured that out. "Is there something you need, Neville?"

"I know you're busy, but I was hoping you could spare a moment. I'm having a problem distinguishing the properties of mandrake skin solutions." Neville held his book to her, little vines grew from the spine and entwined with the pages.

"You've got to be kidding," moaned Ron.

"Don't worry about him." She waved at Ron. "He doesn't know either. In fact, I remember his face stuck to the paper from his drool."

"Say what you like, I was paying attention to your notes."

Neville scratched the back of his neck. "Err, I don't think that's what she meant."

Before Ron said anything, Hermione interjected. "I'd love to help but I'm busy now."

"Really? That's great." Neville smiled a bit lopsided. "I didn't think you'd have time with all the classes you're taking."

Hermione brushed the gold chain hidden under her shirt. Time, if only they knew. "It's not a problem."

Ron tapped her shoulder. "Excuse me, aren't you forgetting something Hermione?"

"What are you talking about?" One of the book's vines curled around her wrist and tightened as she turned to Ron. The vine snapped back, leaving a red welt where it had squeezed.

"I'm sorry!" Neville paled and pulled the book against his chest.

"It's my fault, I should have asked for permission first." Hermione rubbed her hand and focused on Ron. "I'm not forgetting anything."

Ron crossed his arms against his chest. "That figures, just like you huh? Forget it. I'll find Harry by myself."

"I didn't forget about Harry," Hermione snapped. Books were safe. She understood them, felt at home reading the cramped words.

"As soon as you saw that book nothing else mattered."

That wasn't true. She was only distracted, nothing more. "That's not it at all."

Neville glanced back and forth between them. "Uh guys?"

"Don't butt in," Ron said.

"Don't yell at him!" Hermione shot back. Neville had nothing to do with this.

Ron stepped closer, now only inches away. "You're more concerned with your classes than friends. Harry obviously doesn't mean anything to you! In fact this whole thing is probably your fault."

"Neville, I'll help you later," Hermione said in a controlled voice. She stormed out the door they had just entered.

Snowflakes clung to her eyelashes as she ran. Hot, everywhere was hot. Her feet pounded against the snow. No, she wasn't like that. Her friends meant more. Not like Ron and Quidditch.

Hogwarts towered over her, its century-old stones filled with knowledge. How many wizards and witches did it watch grow, changing from young children to mature adults? Cracks scattered along the walls, webs reaching out towards other untouched sections.

Hermione shivered. That wasn't her.

She passed through the arches of the courtyard and was now in the main entranceway. A gust snagged the fringes of her scarf and she grabbed it before it could fully unwrap from her neck.

Movement on the bridge caught her eye. A lone figure stood gazing out at the coming storm. Hermione ran over, kicking up heaps of snow. She was just about to call when he turned towards her and she stopped, unable to close the distance.

"Harry?"

* * *

It had taken awhile, but Harry finally managed to find peace. Winter raged around him, violent and then gentle. Snow beat against the woodwork and each gust had a different voice.

A storm was coming.

From the corner of his eye he saw someone heading towards him, brown hair he recognized instantly.

Harry breathed in and concentrated on the cold. He didn't want to see her.

Hermione stood several feet from him, wind tugging her hair in different directions. "Harry?"

"Go away."

"Not until we talk."

"Well I don't want to talk with you."

"Harry, at least come inside. Please." Hermione stepped closer, reaching out to him.

Nothing else mattered now, not Quidditch or his supposed best friends. He kept seeing the picture of his parents' wedding and the man holding a champagne glass. His godfather. Sirius Black. No longer just a name in the 'Dailey Prophet.'

"You knew," Harry said. "And you didn't tell me."

Hermione leaned against the wooden rail, brushing off snow clumps. "I know I'm not the person that should be saying this. But you're not alone."

"Is that so? What about the other day? You lied to me."

"I know and I'm sorry."

Harry fought the urge to grab something, his fists clenching and unclenching at his sides. "How could you lie to me? You of all people?"

"I, I don't really know. Even now I still don't understand."

"Just forget it." A part of him had hoped that she would explain, giving him a reason why she betrayed his trust. He turned to leave and she grabbed his arm.

"Harry, just listen to me." Hermione held on tighter. "When you found me in the library I was confused; I didn't even have a chance to sort what had happened."

"That's no excuse for lying to me."

"I'm not trying to make an excuse. I'm trying to tell you the truth!"

A gust shook the bridge and snow flung in Harry's face. "I'm not sure I care about the truth anymore. It won't matter if I don't trust you."

"You're going to hear it anyway," Hermione said. "Last year you were pulled into Tom Riddle's diary. Well, that happened to me except it was Elessar's map."

Harry had been prepared for her denial, but not this. That wasn't possible. Elves didn't have that kind of magic. Except Hermione had that look in her eyes. She was serious.

"I'm not sure how it happened," Hermione said in a rush. "I noticed some words on the map that escaped my attention before. So I read a few out loud, there was no harm. They were only words. And then I felt the magic. The next thing I knew I was in Elessar's memory."

His anger faded to a dull hum. Hermione gripped her scarf and she glanced behind them as if expecting someone to appear. After all their adventures, he knew that she didn't scare easy. What had she seen? "But how's that possible? You're the last person Elessar would want to share her memories with."

"I don't think she knew. There must have been some magic in the map. And if I remember right, the _fëa _current felt different, stronger more defined."

"So what happened?" Harry asked.

Hermione hesitated and he nodded for her to continue. "It was the day she learned her father was dying. Her two uncles, both elves, had come to tell her."

"I don't understand. Why didn't you tell me?"

"In the memory Elessar had seemed so, I don't know, human. I wasn't prepared for that. Honestly, I don't think anything would have prepared me."

This whole fight, her lying to him was all because she had been wrong. "You mean to say was that you related to her?"

Hermione flinched and after a moment, nodded. She finally saw what Harry knew for several weeks. Since Halloween. Elf or not, Elessar wasn't much different from them.

Snow stuck to Hermione's cheeks and she brushed it aside. "It's harder to hate someone when you believe they don't have feelings."

"She hides it well, but they are there."

"I see that now, which was part of the reason I didn't say anything when you found me in the library." Hermione shook her head. "She was someone else, not the teacher I knew. The one uncle clearly hated her, but the other tried to comfort her. But she couldn't accept his love."

"I think if the Dursleys were to change, even for a moment I'd most likely reject it too." He understood how Elessar felt. "I would just be too bitter to accept it."

They stood on the bridge, both lost to their thoughts. Too many surprises, unknowns that crept behind him. His parents, Sirius Black, now Hermione and Elessar.

Hermione's eyes were closed and her cheeks were red from the biting wind. Why couldn't she trust him?

"You were right, Harry." As if sensing his stare, Hermione opened her eyes. "I asked Elessar about Sirius Black. That's when she gave me the map. I thought if I questioned her the way I wanted too I would get some kind of answer or clue."

"But that didn't happen." A weight lifted off his chest. Yes, he knew. Hearing her say it though helped push aside the hurt.

"I wanted to yell and demand answers, but I didn't," Hermione said. "Elessar was upset something she felt from the Dark Forest and I just couldn't go through with it. But she wouldn't let me leave without asking about Black, so I did."

Harry remembered after Halloween when Elessar came in late. She had seemed so tired and distracted, but he hadn't paid it much mind. Hermione, however, had. He wasn't surprised. "And that's when she told you that the teachers knew something about Black?"

"That's right." Hermione let go of his hand. He had forgotten she held it. "I didn't mean to keep that from you, but it just didn't seem important. We knew the Ministry was keeping something from you, but it would have prepared you for what McGonagall said. Plus, I knew you'd be mad that I went to bother Elessar again."

"You always lose your temper around Elessar," Harry said. "And then you turned around and kept her secrets. I don't really understand it."

"I don't understand it either. By all logical accounts, I should adore her." Hermione shivered and tugged her gloves up higher. "I suppose it's her secrets I don't trust. But she doesn't matter."

Hermione faced him. "I'm sorry. You went to me for help and I didn't come through."

"It's all right." And he meant it. Now that she explained, he felt better. She was the only one he could talk to. Ron was dependable but there were some things he didn't understand. "I just don't know what to think right now about anything. My parents were betrayed by their best friend and for what? Power?"

"They should have told you."

"I mean Lupin out of everyone should have said something. We were talking on this very same bridge barely a month ago about my parents. I trusted him."

"You should still trust him." Hermione placed her hand over his and they stayed that way. "Everyone thought this was the best way to protect you."

"What about Elessar? You're saying I should trust her?"

"I'm not telling you anything Harry." Hermione shook her head. "You need to make up your mind about her, just like me."

"And have you?"

"No, not really but I'm going to wait and see what happens. There are things I don't understand and besides, she told me herself that she hadn't earned my trust. That seemed like good advice."

He smiled. "You're right, that is good advice."

"Harry!" Ron ran towards them, his scarf flapping in the air. "I've been looking for you everywhere!"

"Oh really? I seem to have found him just fine," Hermione said.

"Don't you start with me! You probably got someone to tell you where to find Harry." Ron panted, his breath a white mist.

"I did not. How did you find him?"

"Neville," Ron answered smiling.

"And it took you this long to get here?"

"Well, he didn't know exactly where Harry was, just the general direction." Ron scratched where his hat came down on his forehead.

This teasing was normal for them, but something felt off. Had they gotten into another fight? "How long have you guys been looking for me?"

"Hours!" Ron waved his arms. "Never mind that. Harry, I ran into Wood and he said you haven't been going to practice. What are you trying to do? Get yourself kicked off the team?"

"How is that important?" Hermione asked. "Harry has enough to worry about."

That's right, practice. He had forgotten. Normally flying helped clear his mind, but feeling just felt wrong. Not after he found out about his parents.

"Look, Harry, just as long as you don't do it anymore." Ron jabbed a finger at him. "I promised Wood I'd talk some sense into you."

"I don't believe you!" Hermione snapped. "You're more worried about Quidditch than your friend."

"That's not true!"

A deep growl echoed off the enclosure of the bridge, vibrating the wood. Ron stopped yelling in mid-sentence. "What, what was that?"

"I don't know." Hermione pulled at her wand, all anger gone from her face.

Wind blasted through the opening nearest Harry spraying snow in his face. Ron yelped and jumped back, smacking into Hermione. Snow stung Harry's eyes. What was going on?

Feet pounded on the wooden floor and he squinted but saw nothing through the blowing snow. He scrambled for his wand, tucked in his jacket. The grim, it had to be the grim. His heart raced.

"Harry!" Ron shouted. "In front of you!"

Through the white sheet the grim materialized. Golden eyes pierced his. The grim crashed into Harry, sending him sprawling backwards. Snow sprang into the air.

"Harry!" Ron and Hermione both yelled.

"Shra that is enough!" That voice, was it Elessar's?

Harry felt the thick fur pinning his legs to the ground. He rubbed the snow away from his eyes so he could see again.

"Shra! Get off him now!" Hermione pulled at the wolf, trying to yank her off him.

Shra wined and with reluctance moved off his legs. Hands gripped his arms helping him up. Shra's pink tongue hung out of her mouth and waged her tail.

"Shra gave you quite a scare didn't she Harry?" Ron chuckled, or tried to. His voice died out from one look at Hermione.

"That's not funny."

Professor Elessar appeared before them, her light gray cloak catching the wind. No wonder they hadn't been seen her or Shra. They didn't need an invisibility cloak. They blended perfectly.

"Are you alright?" Elessar asked.

"Yeah, I just didn't expect to be plowed down by a wolf." Harry ruffled Shar's head causing snow to fall. "I thought you were a grim!"

Shra pulled her lips back in what looked like a smile and licked his face.

"Hey, don't do that! It's freezing!"

"Harry could have been seriously hurt." Hermione shook her finger at Shra, who shrank away. "Playing pranks on students is one thing, but this is beyond that!"

"I will speak to her of this." Elessar bowed her head. "Her actions of late are unacceptable."

Shra whimpered and gave Elessar a look that reminded Harry of the 'puppy-dog face.' However, it did have the encouraged effect because Ron pet her.

"Don't listen to them." Ron jerked his head towards Hermione and Elessar. "That was bloody brilliant. Fred and George are going to be thrilled!"

"Ron, don't encourage her," said Hermione.

"Are you going somewhere?" Harry asked. Why would they be heading away from Hogwarts in the middle of this storm?

"_Yavieba_," Elessar said. "Elves celebrate it as a day of reflection and to remember those who have left this world."

"I've haven't heard of that." The suspicious gleam in Hermione's eyes was back. Apparently, her trust only went so far.

"I have not spoken of it. It's a day when the barrier between the worlds is weakest allowing those who have left us to hear our prayers and love more clearly."

Harry's breath caught in his throat. Elven magic was beyond their understanding. Was it possible? If he opened himself to the _fëa _would his parents hear him?

He clung to those thoughts, the hope they brought. Hermione squeezed his hand. He didn't know when she even took it.

Snow stuck Hermione's clothes and hair. That must have happened when he fell and the snow went into the air. She saw his gaze and brushed off the snow. "You should see yourself."

She was right. When he left this morning, the coat he wore was gray, not white. Harry wiped the snow off, even while some snuck past the barrier of his scarf and slide down his back.

"Ah!" Harry yelled as he tried to get the snow off him. "Shra did you have to jump on me like that? Now I've got snow down my back!"

Deciding they had been in the cold long enough, they walked back towards Hogwarts. Elessar, Ron and Hermione were several feet ahead of him with Harry trailing behind. He was leaving the comfort of the storm. The cold that made him forget.

Shra nudged his arm.

"What is it?"

She tilted her head, golden eyes staring into his. Harry thought he heard a faint voice calling to him. He took a deep breath. There was no harm in trying.

"I'm thinking about my parents and Sirius Black." His elvish was off terribly, the sounds hoarse instead of beautiful. Didn't he even say 'parents' correctly?

"_Use them_."

Harry froze. It couldn't be. Elessar was several feet ahead, talking with Hermione and Ron. So, it wasn't her. Harry knelt beside Shra. "Shra? Was that you?"

The wolf nodded.

"How can you understand me? My elvish was dreadful."

"_You've opened yourself to me. Words are a vehicle for the real magic. Every human could speak with animals if they opened their hearts to the fëa_."

"Why me? Why hasn't Hermione figured this out yet?"

"_The fëa is accessible to you because Voldemort's powers influenced you as a child. You can hear me while the others still cannot._

"Oh." Harry sneezed and wiped his nose with his glove which didn't help much. "What did you mean about me when you first spoke to me?"

"_Call on them; those feelings will help you_."

"My feelings?"

"_They are powerful. Do not push them aside; call on them to aid you_."

Harry shook his head. "I don't see how that's possible. I couldn't even concentrate in my classes because I couldn't stop thinking about my parents."

"_You will learn, just as Elessar did_."

Harry stopped and stared at Shra. "You mean, about her uncles?"

Shra's eyes narrowed. "_You surprise me, Harry Potter. I doubt she has spoken of this to you." _

"No, uh not exactly." The day in the library came to mind, the map in Hermione's hands. What had happened between Elessar and her uncles? And why didn't she know about her father's health?

"Harry, quit wasting time! I'm freezing!" Ron yelled.

Hermione, Ron and Elessar stood waiting for them. He wanted to ask more. This was his chance.

Shra headed toward the three. "_Do not concern yourself with Black. There are many truths yet to be revealed, but never close off from feelings_."

Harry's head whipped back to Shra. "What?"

Shra bounded towards Ron and Hermione, her tail whipping back and forth as she ran. He shivered and hurried after her. Truths?

"Come on, Harry!" shouted Ron. "I'm in the mood for some hot chocolate."

"Always thinking about food," said Hermione.

No longer was there a light dusting of snow falling from the sky, but came down in heavier clumps that stuck to their clothes. Elessar absently rubbed her shoulders. "I'll never get used to the cold."

Harry froze.

Ron threw a ball of snow at Hermione, pelting her in the back. She waved her wand at him threatening a hex he'd have no hope of breaking. Shra ran in circles between them and Elessar smiled.

She was wearing gloves. He hadn't noticed before. But that's not possible. Since when did elves feel the cold?


	15. Similarities

Through Darkness and Light

Chapter 15

Similarities

Calrheane clasped the pin of her father's brooch, her fingers lingering for a moment before she pulled up the hood of her cloak. The moon's light filtered through the window, still bright as if it were full.

"_He is well_." Shra sat next to Calrheane. "_I spoke with him earlier."_

The sliver of moon disappeared behind a passing cloud, a dark shroud that seemed to cover the entire night sky.

"_You do not have to go alone. He would go_."

"He is angry with me." As was his right. She deserved his anger and she would bear it as long as it was needed. Zirak won't touch him. Not again.

"_He is hurt, as anyone would be. He desires answers and only ones that you can give_."

Calrheane turned from the window, her cloak clinging to her pants. Those answers would do more damage than good. She needed to believe that. "There is nothing I can do for him."

"_You can ease his mind. He would understand_."

"I will not tell him."

"_You cannot keep it from him."_

"I didn't mean to say anything." About Sirius Black or Zirak. Halloween, it had brought more surprises than she had counted on. The power being drawn from the Dark Forest had distracted her. She hadn't meant to say anything.

"_What do you fear in telling him?"_

Fear for him and herself. "I do not need you to play the role of my conscious. At least for tonight, leave me be."

"_Whether or not tonight is Yavieba makes no difference. Why won't you tell him? And don't deceive yourself by saying you don't trust him_."

"Remus has enough darkness in his life without adding mine." Calrheane took placed a small dagger in her belt. The sword would be more effective but she couldn't bear to wear it. Not yet. "I refuse to give Zirak another to manipulate."

"_That is for Remus to decide, not you. He will choose his own fate. If he decides to fight then he will face Zirak; nothing you do will prevent that_."

"Already his spirit is weakening against the taint," Calrheane whispered. "With each transformation Remus looses more of himself. He won't live through a confrontation with Zirak."

"_Then take him to the glade. He must be whole if he is to survive_. _You can help him achieve that._"

"There are other ways for his spirit to heal."

Shra sighed and bowed her head. "_You know how I feel about this. Your parents will not come_._ For once, allow some good to come of this night._"

"I know, but I must go."

"_Then do not go alone!_"

The force of Shra's words stunned her. Yavieba held the one hope that she might be able to see her parent's spirit one last time and correct the mistakes she had made. Shra understood that, though she disagreed but let Calrheane go.

"_Time will remain and the past will continue to go unchanged. But you can share that with others, those who understand. Take him with you, let him put aside the guilt and put Lily and James to rest_."

"I'm ashamed of the past; I won't share that with anyone."

Memories of the night she told Legolas her decision to leave Valinor flashed by. After all these years she still recalled on his face. He understood. He always had. And yet she could not share her shame with him.

"If I did not allow Legolas to comfort me on this night what makes you believe I would take Remus? An acquaintance who holds anger towards me?"

"_If you do not know the reason then I will not be the one to speak of it_." Shra sat there with a knowing look, her head tilted to the side.

Calrheane's head shot up. No, what Shra said meant nothing. What she felt meant nothing. Remus meant nothing.

"I have tired of your games Shra; I will play them no more. "What is your meaning?"

"_You are a grown elf, you figure it out_."

The anger she felt towards herself and her confusion found an outlet in Shra. But everything she did was done only with Calrheane's interest at heart. Even when her shame kept her from acknowledging that.

"Forgive me, my actions were not just."

"_There is nothing to forgive; you carry much on your shoulders_." Shra's cold nose brushed her hand.

"I don't have the right to pass my frustration to you. Each time we speak it ends in confrontation. How is it that after all these years, this is what we've become?"

"_Because I am pushing you. You struggle to understand but still fear the rejection this world might give you. You cannot continue as you are, so I keep you from running."_

"But if you didn't then I would never face what haunts me."

"_You are my only companion; I will never have another," _Shra whispered._ "I do not wish to see you die_."

Calrheane lifted Shra's head so they were eye-level with each other. Yes, she understood the sorrow and loneliness Shra felt. They were bound by friendship. Two immortals preparing for a darkness neither had any hope of surviving.

"Either way, I will fall. For me, there is no hope," Calrheane said. "But I will give hope. All I wish for is forgiveness."

"_You still do not understand. Your parents forgave you_."

Their lives were constrained to time and the arguments between her and Shra wouldn't stop until she finally let go of the past.

Calrheane stood. "I will return."

"_If you must, then I will wait_."

"Thank you, my friend."

Just as she was about to leave the room, Shra called out to her. "Y_ou should take Remus with you_."

Calrheane smirked and headed out the door. Stubborn as always.

The darkened corridors called to her, its halls lit only by the faint light of the moon. A part of her knew Remus would understand. She didn't want Remus to know that in the end it was her choice not to forgive her parents, even after she understood their reasons for sending her away.

The _fëa_ pulled at her, dragging the fringes of her consciousness into her world. The current was stronger on this night than any other, the boundary between this one and the spirit world weakened. But never before had Calrheane felt such power coming from the _fëa_, like it had its own will.

She gave into its promoting and embraced the power. Bright lights and colors assaulted her. The intensity caught her off guard.

Careful, so as to become accustomed to this new change, Calrheane opened her eyes. The _fëa_ rushed past her; a raging torrent of colored strands, each connected to a physical being.

There, among the fast-moving stream of spirits, was one she recognized. Harry. What was he doing out now? And why was his spirit reaching out to her like this?

It was a bright green thread tinged with a blue. Two small lights circled around Harry, pulsing with the power of Mandos. But the moon had not yet peeked yet; it was too soon for spirits to cross into this world.

Calrheane's fingers brushed Harry's essence. The moment she did she felt every emotion within him. How was that possible? He was only thirteen! With every ounce of Harry's being, he loved his parents but mingled in with that love was a terrible pain.

She released the current and stumbled back. Her hand clutched the Evenstar necklace she wore, its points digging into her palm. He was so young; too young to feel that. It was wrong.

Guilt swept through her. If she had intervened twelve years ago this might not have been there. But Fate had destined his parents to death, giving Harry the key to destroy the dark mortal, Voldemort.

Who was she, another bound by Fate, to change the course already laid? Fate would not be stopped no matter how hard one fought. His pain wasn't her fault.

Yet, even though she tried to convince herself of this fact, she found herself heading in Harry's direction.

* * *

The smell of sulfur hung in the air even though the torches had been snuffed out hours earlier. The portraits snorted when the light from his wand came near.

"Do you mind you cretin! We're trying to sleep!" yelled one particularly fat man wearing a star shaped nightcap.

"Sorry." Harry pointed his wand away. He glanced at the Marauder's Map. His feet were the only ones on this hallway.

His winter jacket was tucked underneath his arm. Perhaps he should go back. The fire was still warm and maybe there were leftover marshmallows from the stash Fred and George had brought.

Shadows fluttered on the walls, dancing as his light passed by. The urge didn't go away. He needed to be outside.

"_Do not concern yourself with Black_." What had Shra meant?

Harry shook his head. Even a wolf was keeping secrets from him!

At least he and Hermione had managed to work things out. It was never easy being angry with a friend, especially her. They both decided to keep Elessar's memory a secret, even from Ron.

Hermione learn all she could about the map first. Nothing happened when Harry tried and the map remained blank when Hermione had attempted again.

The Marauder's map pulsed in his hand, grabbing his attention. A set of feet headed towards him with the label, 'Calrheane Elessar.'

Harry's heart pounded. No adjacent corridors in this section. He couldn't avoid her.

"Mischief managed." He pointed his wand at the map and the ink disappeared. "Knox."

Moments after he snuffed out the light from his wand, another blue light crept around the corner. All he heard was his ears ringing.

Professor Elessar appeared and. Harry noticed she a small blue orb floated in the air. For once she wasn't wearing a dress but pants that looked suitable for travel.

"Um, good evening Professor" he said giving her his best smile.

Elessar regarded him and Harry fought the urge to squirm. Her golden eye color told him she was viewing the _fëa, _which she explained during class once.

As far as he was concerned, she cheated. It was easy to use elven magic and get a sense of how someone was feeling. He shuffled his feet and rubbed his shoulders. And he never would be comfortable with it.

"See anything special?"

Elessar's eyes widened and her eyes changed to their normal color. "Yes."

"What?" She didn't just admit that she saw something important. Professor Elessar didn't do that.

"The night is calling to you."

"What are you talking about?"

"Your spirit is restless." Elessar stared for several heartbeats until she nodded. "I was unsure of this until a few moments ago. Your spirit is reacting to your parents."

Harry's breath stilled and a chill swept through his body. Questions tumbled in his mind. He tried speaking. Nothing came out.

Elessar made no effort to comfort or explain. Tonight he just didn't have the patience to deal with her indifferent attitude or neutral expressions. She turned to leave and he grabbed her arm.

"No, you can't leave it like this. I need you to explain to me what you meant. My parents are dead!" Tears filled his eyes. Dead people were dead. They weren't coming back, not even elven magic was that powerful.

"Do you wish to know?" Elessar asked.

He didn't care if she was angry. He needed to know. "I want the truth."

"Then come with me."

"What? Where are you going?" Something tugged at him, that same urging that brought him outside in the first place.

"Tonight is Yavieba."

"You realize that means nothing to me?"

Elessar sighed. "I am aware. This is difficult for me. You are the first I have asked to accompany me."

"Go where? And why? It's clear that you don't want me to come, so why bother asking?"

"You must come. It is your parents' desire. And mine as well." Elessar's voice trailed off, as if there was more she wanted to say but wasn't able too.

"Please, just tell me."

"On this night the boundary between this world and the _fëa_ one has weakened. It is a night of power, but for the spirits of mortals it also allows them to reach out to their loved ones."

His anger vanished, blown away by the gust of her words. "My parents, they're here?"

Elessar nodded and Harry thought he dedicated sadness in her eyes. "I haven't heard of this happening. Their love for you is fighting against the current and has even brought me here to guide you."

His heart lightened. They were here, watching over him. He wasn't alone.

Elessar stepped closer, the blue orb bobbed out of the way. "Harry, will you come?"


	16. Yavieba

Through Darkness and Light

Chapter 13

Yavieba

Moonlight filtered through trees, glinting off icicles hanging from branches. Stillness settled about the forest and a dark feeling Harry hadn't felt before. At least, not like this. Something felt wrong.

Elessar didn't appear afraid or nervous; perhaps it was just his imagination. He stepped forward trusting his other senses, only to hit his shin on what was definitely a rock. He bit his bottom lip to keep from cursing and he rubbed the sore spot.

"_Lumos_." There, now he might actually be able to see something. "Professor, how can you see where you're going?"

"I can see well enough, though even the greatest elven archers cannot hit their targets without some amount of light."

"Great," he mumbled. "Is there anything you can't do?"

"Fly."

Harry smiled. Looks like he won that bet with Ron, Elessar did have a sense of humor. It was just well concealed. He rubbed his arms as the cold sapped his warmth. A logical person would have said, 'That's it. I'm going back.' This was for his parents. They were here somewhere, waiting.

Elessar had explained that spirits were only able to crossover for a brief span of time when the moon reached its peek in the sky. And yet, his parents had been fighting against the current all night to speak with him.

Branches rustled above him, ripping through the silence. Mounds of snow were deposited on the ground as the branches groaned, swaying back and forth their movement gaining in intensity.

He expected to feel the bite of wind but nothing happened. There no snow was picked up by gusts and yet the trees were moving. The forest moaned, like a shifting of weight. What was going on?

"You've never heard them before?" Elessar asked.

"No. What is it?"

"The trees, they are speaking to one another."

"What?" Harry jerked back. Trees speaking?

Elessar gazed into the treetops. "The elves began it long ago, waking the trees. But now, most have fallen asleep. The years have been long and hard for them."

An elf; that was who he was traveling with. And around her, trees talked. That wasn't too surprising. Nothing to get worked up over. "What are they saying?"

"Those who remain are saddened," she tilted her head as if listening. "They mourn for Treebeard."

"Treebeard?" The way she said the name made it sound like it was a person.

"He was an Ent, a shepherd of the forest."

"Does Dumbledore know about Ents?"

Elessar nodded. "He knows because I told him. You must understand, even during my time Ents were rarely seen, even by elves. Many years have passed since then and the lore was forgotten."

"So what happened to them? I mean, elves were forgotten because you left. If Ents were still around then we would have remembered."

"Ents have become 'tree-like,' fallen into a deep sleep beyond the cares of this life." She touched the tree nearest her.

Harry stared at the tree. Was this one of them? Was it going to start moving suddenly or perhaps speak in a deep, booming voice? It appeared to be any normal tree, but what would he know?

"It's only a tree, but even it has a great power." Elessar pulled away, once again able to read his thoughts. Or his feelings.

"So this Treebeard, you knew him?"

Elessar's cloak whipped behind her and she strode by without answering. For a moment Harry stood open-mouthed. She had ignored him, not even gracing him a cryptic answer.

Honestly, he wasn't asking much. He was the one blindly following her into the Dark Forest. Hermione asked about Black and Elessar gave her a magic map, he asked about a tree and she ignored him.

Time to stop. The Minister, Sirius Black, Lupin. No more.

Harry jumped in front of her. "You want me to trust you then give me a reason. You knew him, this Treebeard, didn't you? It's a simple question."

Was that anger he saw flash across her eyes or something else, like anguish? Graceful in a way he could never be, Elessar maneuvered around him. "He's an old friend."

"A friend?"

"Why aren't you asking me what you really want to know?"

Wasn't it Sirius Black who destroyed his life? And here she was, an elf that had too many coincidences with his escape, offering him the chance to ask. "I guess I don't really have to."

Elessar's eyebrows rose, the only hint of surprise he could make out.

"You're hiding things from me, but so is Dumbledore. I trust Dumbledore, and he trusts you." Harry hesitated. Was this the right choice, to be honest with her? "But I can't trust you if you refuse to tell me anything."

"I see. There's much about you, Harry that I don't understand. Your heart is weighted, setting you apart from others."

"What are you talking about?"

"Sorrow. You hide it from your friends, but they can still see."

"Oh." It was the piece of him that had been touched by a dark wizard. Harry brushed the scar, trying to hide what she saw.

"I am sorry," Elessar whispered.

"Sorry? What for?"

"For the path you must walk. It is a lonely one; I know it well." Her eyes searched his and she nodded. "My life is very different from yours or any other elf. What may seem like simple questions to you can be painful to remember."

"I thought you were immortal."

"Whoever said that immortals couldn't feel pain?"

"I don't know, I just assumed. You never appear happy or sad, how could you feel pain without also feeling the other two?"

"I assure you, I feel those emotions even if you cannot see them."

They continued down the path, which in reality wasn't even a game trail. For so many days he'd felt lost after finding out the reason for his parents death and he still was, but talking with Elessar and going out with her this night just felt right. Seeing her unease gave him strength to deal with what he was feeling.

Being with Elessar, however, he couldn't help but think of his first year. The first time he stepped into the Dark Forest and met Voldemort. Wait, why hadn't he thought of this sooner? Elessar was immortal! Who better to know about immortality than her? Perhaps she knew something that would destroy Voldemort.

"Professor, how is that unicorn blood can grant immortality?"

"Like elves, they are immortal. In fact they were a gift to my kin, meant to be companions."

A hidden root snagged Harry's foot and he stumbled. Elessar grabbed his arm, preventing him from falling. Being cold and wet in the middle of the Dark Forest didn't seem very appealing. "Thanks."

Elessar nodded and let him go. "My ancestors refused to tame the unicorns, believing their light would fade if taken from the wild."

"Have you ever seen one?"

"Most had been destroyed by the Dark Lords, Morgoth and Sauron. Even though I spent time in Fangorn, I never saw them."

The air grew chill, as if the forest sensed the absence of this light. Could the forest, once called Fangorn, mourn unicorns?

"Long ago, unicorns had a kinship with elves," Elessar explained. "The belief was that a bond could form if the unicorn wished it."

"Has that ever happened to anyone you knew?"

"No, and to my knowledge those who had formed a bond died with their unicorns during the dark ages."

"You're telling me that if an elf died the unicorn would die also?"

"That's right." Elessar stepped over a large log. "The bond formed was one of companionship, a friendship beyond the physical world. Much like elves and love, a unicorn and an elf could not live without the other once the bond was made."

Harry stopped. He hadn't heard this before. "Elves can't live without love?"

"They can live without it, but can also die because of it. There are only two ways an elf can die, either in battle or from a broken heart."

He wondered how many people would kill for that information. In the past whenever he had looked at Elessar he saw this unfathomable elf who governed her emotions behind a cold mask. "So, the phrase 'love can kill' is true for you? That sounds silly."

"It does if you think of it from mortal's perspective. But to an elf, love is everlasting."

"What about you?" Harry asked. "Did you leave someone behind in Valinor?"

Elessar's face paled. "If I had left someone then I'd be dead."

Could that mean she _had_ left someone? "So, why aren't you dead yet?"

Harry didn't move or even dare to breathe. The spirit world was so strong tonight he didn't need to look into the current to see the waves of anger rushing off her, he could feel it.

What was she hiding? And why was it so important to keep it from him? And then out of no where he thought of the one person Elessar was close with. "Hermione mentioned that you and Professor Lupin are having a fight."

Elessar's body went rigid. Maybe Hermione was right about those two. "Yes, he is angry with me."

"Is it painful?"

Elessar's eyes widened a fraction. However, in the blink of an eye her mask was back on and for a moment he wondered if he'd imagined the whole thing. "It is always painful when you fight with your companions." She continued walking. "We must hurry, the hour is close."

"So, who was it that you left behind?" Harry called after her. "What was his name?"

Elessar stopped abruptly. Harry stepped back, realizing that he had gone too far. Perhaps it wasn't in his best interest to upset her. Not out here alone in the forest. The intensity in her eyes sent a shiver through him and his blood went cold at the sound of her voice.

"Dying from love will be an easier death than what Fate has planned for me."

Harry nodded; hoping she would see that it was the end of that conversation. He hurried after her and concentrated on putting one foot in front of the other. They trudged through the forest in silence, the trees passing him in a blur.

"We're here."

They stood at a meadow's edge, but to Harry it seemed like the brink of the world; maybe not that, but at least the boundary into another. He forgot the cold, Sirius Black, the dementors.

At the border of the trees, winter ceased to exist. The scent of fresh grass overwhelmed him. An invisible barrier separated this meadow from the rest of the world. Did these flowers bloom all year?

A waterfall filled the small lake and mist crept out onto the water. His hands were warm now and sweat lined each of his fingers.

"What is this place?"

" Treebeard's glade. A place untouched by a time; a barrier separating our world and the _fëa_ one."

His parents were here. Harry felt it, right to his very core. He closed his eyes and touched the spirit world faster than he had ever done before in class. The current washed over the water, spilling onto land. Anything the _fëa_ touched pulled the spirit of that object, like wet paint sprayed with water.

"It's beautiful." The different lights and strands circled his legs, dragging threads of his own spirit into the tide. He looked at Elessar and felt his mouth dry. What was going on? He had seen her a dozen times using the _fëa _sight. But nothing like this.

Elessar was surrounded in a blue light, pulsing as if it were alive. It was like she was a completely different person. "Let us see if your parents can hear."

Harry's body grew cold, not from anticipation, but fear. His parents. Would they speak with him?

"Use those feelings; it will guide you to them."

"That's what Shra had said that day on the bridge," Harry whispered.

"I heard."

Harry was about to say something, but Elessar moved towards the lake, pushing back her hood. He was about to follow, but something held him there. The spirit current parted as Elessar waded through. Its light seemed to brighten as she passed, then faded to its normal light.

Who _was_ she?

"The days have grown dark and the light of your spirit has passed us by, but are never forgotten," Elessar sang in elvish. "Hear the whispers of all who remember."

Tiny orbs separating from the current, the remnants of spirits. Yellow, magenta, green, maroon and blue; more colors than he'd ever seen each pulsing from an inner power. The dark night brightened, drowning out the stars above.

Voices filled the glade, too low for him to make out. It was almost as if they were a song comprised only of sound.

Two lights floated towards Harry and he stepped back. There was something familiar about them. They brushed against his skin, cool but comforting. Could these be them?

"Mum? Dad?"

The intensity from the lights brightened. His mother gave him a hug, her hair brushing against his nose. "_We love you so much_."

His father leaned over and ruffled his hair. "_I have never been more proud_."

Tears fell down Harry's face. His fingers brushed the two lights. Here were his parents. There were so many things he wanted to say. He had dreamt of this moment everyday of his life and now he finally had the chance he couldn't decide what to say.

His mother kissed his cheek. "_We know_."

"_We will always know_." His father gripped his shoulders.

Harry remembered what Elessar had told him. They had fought the current trying to reach him before the boundary weakened. "Why were you calling to me? What did you need to tell me?"

His father's light paled, as if overcome with sadness. "_The darkness is hunting them. Harry, my son, you must save them."_

"What do you mean? Save who? Dad!"

"_Go, Harry_," his mother said. "_You must hurry_."

Their lights faded, and Harry vaguely registered Elessar's song coming to a close. The strength from the _fëa_ current changed and he felt himself being pulled along with it.

"Wait! Please don't go yet! What's going on? Who are you talking about?"

His father turned back. "_My friend is in need of you. Her son must be protected_."

"Dad! Mum!" Harry's legs gave out, unable to fight the current's power. He dug his fingers into the grass and dirt. "Please don't go."

"_We will always be with you Harry_."

The lights within the glade blinked out, one after the other. Some lingered before they too were caught by the current and absorbed into the moving the stream. Harry couldn't move, not even to wipe away the tears that fell. After so long and so many dreams he had seen them. "Mum, dad."

Arms wrapped around his shoulders from behind. How could he be happy and bitter at the same time?

"They're dead." His mind was overcome with emotion that his words sounded lifeless.

"But they love you," Elessar whispered.

Flowers swayed in the breeze and the sound of falling water was the only noise that filtered through the silence. Whether or not he was grateful to Elessar he didn't know. His parents were gone and he would be alone again.

From somewhere, a feeling of calmness spread up through his body. Were they watching him even now, hurting because of his own pain?

Elessar's arms pulled away. "I wish I could say it faded with time, but I am still waiting."

"Who have you lost?" His voice croaked as if he hadn't used it in ages.

She regarded him before gazing at the stars. "My family. Those who have died and the ones lost to me forever."

"So you can't speak with them?"

"No."

"But I thought you were immortal?"

"Elves and mortals go to different places when they die. My family was mortal and I have sought them each year. I can never ask their forgiveness."

The sadness in her called to him and he realized it mirrored what he felt inside right now. "Forgiveness for what?"

Elessar took a deep breath. "We make choices believing that it was the right one or there was no other way. I don't know if that's the truth, I don't know anymore. I believe there are some things that cannot be changed, but there might be other paths we simply can't see."

What was she talking about? And why did she look at him like she was asking forgiveness?

"Thank you." Harry held his hands in front of him. He had touched his parent's spirits and if he concentrated hard enough, he could still hear them. He remembered what his dad told him and jumped to his feet.

"What is it?" Elessar rose behind him.

"I forgot! We have to go save them!"

"Harry, calm down." Elessar gripped his shoulders. "Save who?"

"My dad! Didn't you hear?" How could he have forgotten? His parents had been trying to warn him all night and then he goes and forgets. "We have to hurry!"

He was about to run but Elessar held his arm tightly. "I need you tell me what happened."

"My dad said a friend was in danger, some kind of darkness was after them. He told me that we had to save her son."

Elessar released Harry and he saw her eyes changing to their golden color as she viewed the _fëa_ current. Why hadn't he thought of that sooner? "What do you see?"

"It's the one who attacked on Halloween."

"Huh? What attack? You mean Black?"

"No, this power is not Black." She glanced at Harry before she headed towards the edge of the glade. "I will need you to stay. This glade will protect you."

"What? You can't go without me!"

Elessar was about protest when she gripped her stomach and doubled over.

"Professor!" Harry ran over to her.

"I'm fine." Her face contorted in pain. "He has attacked again. He's near."

Fear raced through Harry. With a steady hand he held his wand and scanned the surrounding trees.


	17. Darkness's Voice

Chapter 17

Darkness's Voice

Harry's heart beat madly against his chest but his wand didn't waver as he stood protectively in front of Elessar. Images of black shapes in long tattered cloaks flashed through his mind, the dementor's fleshless hands hanging at their side. He grappled with his imagination and shoved it back into his subconscious. He needed to get a hold of himself.

He glanced behind and saw Elessar regain her footing, her eyes were closed but whether in concentration or pain, he couldn't tell.

"What do you mean 'the power has attacked again?' What power?"

"On Halloween the teachers and I felt another force, one that was not Sirius Black," she said in between breaths. "It was a spell that had been diverted from its original target."

"Do you know who was behind the spell?"

"I do not."

"And what you just felt, that was the same person?"

"Yes."

Harry adjusted his hand on his wand, already turning slick with sweat. What should they do? Was Elessar really all right? She looked pale, at least from what he saw from the moon's light.

"Why did the power affect you like that?"

Elessar's golden eyes blazed for a brief moment as she scanned the forest. "It is an ancient power; whoever is behind the magic holds ill will towards me." She straightened up and he noticed that she gripped the necklace she always wore. "And it doesn't want me to interfere."

A winter wind swept through the glade. The earlier warmth dissolved and the snow crept onto the fringes of the meadow.

Harry rubbed his eyes; that couldn't be happening, it had to be his imagination.

Veins of ice snaked up the flowers he had noticed earlier, turning them solid even as he watched. A dark fog crept along the edges, sucking into its depth all light that touched it.

"What's happening?"

Elessar's eyes remained on the boundary, watching the snow creep into Treebeard's old home. "The magic is fading."

She raised her head higher and took a deep breath. There was no shocked expression or obvious sign of fear as he would have expected from anyone else, but her tone _told_ him she was afraid.

He shivered and the cold seemed to wrap around him. If she was afraid, he had no idea how he was supposed to feel.

"Fading? How can that be possible?" He inched closer towards Elessar, seeking comfort in her presence. "You said this place has been here for thousands of years, how can the magic be fading now?"

"Zirak is awakening," she whispered and it sounded like she spoke more to herself than Harry.

"Wait, I thought you didn't know who was behind the attack? Who's Zirak?"

Elessar's eyebrows rose before her face settled down into her normal expression. Somehow Harry just knew that she hadn't meant to say that name out loud.

"Zirak and the one behind the power are not the same."

"So then who is Zirak? Why is his awakening doing this?"

He needed answers; needed to understand what was happening. Harry only knew of dementors that had the power to turn the living world into one of cold with just their presence. Were dementors and this Zirak connected somehow?

As if of its own accord, Harry's mind drifted to another memory, one that had occurred at the end of summer when he ran away from the Dursley's.

"That fog," he whispered and the pieces clicked into place, "this fog is the same as the night that..."

A strange voice, faint and weak as if it were speaking across miles called to him. "_Please, help me_."

"Professor, I just heard –"

"I know," she said her voice strained.

Elessar strode forward, heading in the direction of dark haze, now lingering on the outskirts of the meadow.

"Wait a second, who was that?" He called out while rushing after her.

"Harry, you must stay here."

"Are you mad? I'm not going anywhere without you, not after what happened when that other magic was used. You might need my help and we need to help whose ever out there."

In one fluid motion Elessar turned around, her cloak billowing out behind her. She gripped Harry's shoulder, holding him in place as he tried to dart ahead of her.

"Let me go! Professor, we have to help them!"

"As a teacher I am charged with keeping you safe and where I go now is a place of danger. You must stay."

Harry tried pulling his arm away and was surprised that she held on, apparently not the weak, fragile elf all the students thought she was.

"Look," he said with force, "someone needs our help and you need me."

"Don't be foolish! There is still magic here that can protect you in a way I cannot."

He stopped struggling.

Strands of hair stuck to Elessar's face, no longer in its flawless braid. Her eyes pleaded with him to listen. "Professor Lupin would never forgive me if anything to you. Nor would I forgive myself."

Professor Lupin? What did he have to do with anything? Harry's eyes widened as he remembered their conversation on the way here and Elessar's reaction. She really was hurting over that fight they had; what did that mean?

The cold seeped through his jacket and it felt like his whole body was going numb. He shook himself from those thoughts as they had more pressing matters at hand.

"What's happening?" he asked, but Elessar remained silent. Well, if she wasn't going to answer than he'd just have to see for himself.

Shra had told him to use his emotions, so that's what he did. He didn't push away his fear or the anticipation for what was happening, and instead drew from them. The world changed, fading from perfect lines to blurred ones.

An outline of the _fëa_ current traveled over the ground crossing in between his legs. The colors and strands were too faint for him to pick out and even if he could see them he wouldn't have any clue what they signified. He knew they were spirits but not from what.

Harry staggered as he looked at the fog, and would have fallen if Elessar didn't have a hold of him. All he saw was black. The_ fëa_ current brushed against the haze, any strands that came in contact with the darkness withered away until nothing was left.

He let go of the _fëa _sight and turned towards Elessar. The grip on his wand tightened. He refused to give into fear.

"This place isn't safe anymore; you're not going out there alone."

For a moment Elessar stood there regarding Harry, her gold eyes piercing into his own green ones. "Very well," she finally consented, "then come with me."

She did not glance back at Harry, but strode purposefully towards the dark fog. He followed after her and taking one last deep breath to calm his nerves. Would this be his last adventure?

"Harry," Elessar said without turning around, "I ask that you trust me."

He would have told her that was a silly question; after all didn't he just follow her into the heart of the Dark Forest in the middle of the night? But his voice didn't work so he nodded, knowing perfectly well that she couldn't see him.

Grass and flowers, brittle from the cold shattered under the weight of his feet as if subzero levels had instantly frozen them. Would they freeze as well if the fog touched them?

As they drew closer the temperature dropped several degrees; even Harry's adrenaline was unable to block the consuming cold. He tugged on his gloves, switching his wand from one hand to the other, while doing his best to not drop his guard.

Elessar's voice deepened as she approached the edge of the glade and the ebony mist. "_Be gone Alcarinor, retreat to your cage. You will not keep me from the one who has attacked this night_."

At least, that's what Harry assumed she said. Her Elvish seemed to carry on the air and he felt the power of the _fëa_ prickling against his senses.

The fog hesitated, no longer coming towards them but not retreating either. It swayed around the base of trees though there was no wind to cause such an act. Harry heard something that sounded like laughter, a faint echo resonating from within the black haze.

"_Leave this place_!" A blue light shot out of Elessar's outstretched hand slicing through the center of the fog.

The laughter was cut off and the mist dissolved under the brilliance of Elessar's magic. Two feet of snow encircled the nearest trees; winter no longer invaded the glade. A blackberry bush stood half-frozen, its leaves on the right side stiff while several patches remained lush and green.

Elessar's arm sank wearily to her side and she turned to Harry. "Are you well?"

"Yeah, I'm fine but what about you?"

"I shall live."

Her tone didn't inspire much confidence but he figured it was better not to press her on that matter. No witch or wizard could draw on the kind of magic without the aid of a wand; he only imagined what kind drain that must be on her spirit.

"What was that thing? Is that the Zirak person you were talking, but you called it 'Alcarinor?' What did it want?" All these questions tumbled out of his mouth and for every one he asked thought up two more.

Elessar shook her head. "They are one and the same; Zirak and Alcarinor. But ask me no more on this matter for I will not answer. We must hurry."

She waved for him to follow and she sped through the forest, the exhaustion he had seen earlier gone.

"Hold on! Professor?" He ran after her and muttered, "_Lumos_." A blue light burst out from the tip of his wand, at least this way he would be able to see where he was going.

His breath came out in a white mist and his lungs burned from the cold as he ran after her. He watched as Elessar maneuvered in between the trees, her elven grace allowing her to move without slowing as she ducked underneath a low-hanging branch.

This side of the meadow was like a fortress, the bushes and trees an interlocking tangle. Harry pushed branches out of his way and swerved between trees.

The light from his wand cast a blue tint on the ground. He jumped over a fallen log and snow powder flew into the air as he landed on the other side. He stumbled forward desperately trying to keep his momentum going.

"Do you even know where you're going?" he asked when he finally caught up to her.

"I am following the trail; this time he did not cover his tracks."

"He who?"

"The one who attacked on Halloween and the same spell I felt in Treebeard's glade."

Harry kicked a mound of snow into the air. "And that Zirak, Alcarinor, whatever his name is, doesn't want you to find this guy?"

Elessar nodded and abruptly halted causing Harry to skid in the snow as he tried to stop.

"What was that for? I thought you said..."

Elessar waved her hand, indicating that he should be silent.

Branches cracked under some heavy weight and a shape emerged from among the trees, shadowed by the darkness around it. Something staggered towards them, its body hunched over. A weak light illuminated from a long horn, dimming even as he watched.

Harry's breath caught in his throat. "A unicorn."

The unicorn limped into the clearing, its dark eyes regarding them. He felt rather than saw the intelligence in her gaze, eyes that saw into the very parts of his conscious that he wasn't even aware of.

Her white mane hung limp and her ears twitched back and forth. The light from his wand overpowered the faint light from her horn, diminished as it had become.

With great effort the unicorn raised her head towards Elessar. "_You have come. The centaurs said it would be so_."

Elessar's eyes widened, but Harry saw no other sign of surprise. She replied in Elvish, "What can I do to ease your pain?"

Pain? What was she talking about? He lowered his wand and saw a small silver pool forming at the base of the unicorn's front hoof.

"_I cannot go on._" The unicorn collapsed, a blur of white crashing to the ground.

They rushed forward and Elessar placed her hands on the unicorn's side. There was a large gash along the unicorn's ribcage, pieces of white skin hung loose and were soaked in silver blood.

Harry lurched backwards at the sight. Never in his life had he seen so much blood.

Elessar pressed her hands against the wound, the blood spilled in between her fingers and trailed down her wrists.

"_There is nothing you can do for me,_ _Anvanime_."

He heard a sharp intake of breath. "What did you say?" Elessar asked quickly in Elvish.

"_My son, he told me_." The unicorn's sides shuddered and her breathing labored. Blood trickled out from her nose forming a small puddle on the ground.

"_I am called Celeste. My son, Star Dancer, and I have been fleeing from the fallen one. My magic is gone; I could not stop him_."

From his coat pocket he pulled out a handkerchief that had his mother's initials embroidered on it. Lupin had recently given it to him after a walk they had together only a few weeks ago. He wiped the blood away from the unicorn's face.

The unicorn opened her eyes at Harry's touch. "_You look so much like your father_."

He fumbled with the handkerchief. "My father? You knew my father?"

The unicorn closed her eyes again, too weak to answer.

Then everything Celeste said kicked in; both her and her son were being hunted by someone and she knew his father. This was the reason why his parents had sought his help, fighting against death to warn Harry!

"You," he said quietly, "you're the one my Dad talked about. He knew that this would happen!"

Elessar's mouth lowered in shock at Harry's words and she leaned over the unicorn's ear, desperation in her voice. "Your son, where is he? Who did this to you?"

"_Please, help him_." The unicorn's chest rose and fell.

"Elessar, you have to do something; you have to save her!" She couldn't die now.

Celeste coughed and blood sprayed onto the ground and specks of silver landed on his pants. "_You must not let the Dark Lord come into power_," her voice faded, "_either of them_."

Dark Lords? But there was only one, Voldemort. What was she talking about?

Harry shook his head. None of that mattered; all he cared about was saving her. He watched as Celeste's eyes dimmed and the light from her horn faded. She had to still be alive.

Harry stroked her white mane, its coarse bristles running in between his fingers. Her body was still warm; if he concentrated hard enough it must just stay that way. "Please, you can't die. Your son needs you; don't leave him!"

Elessar bowed her head and her hands fell away from the unicorn. "May the light of Valinor guide you home. _Nayaer, mellon nín_."

Streaks of silver blood traced across her pants. She absently wiped some of the blood off her hands and onto the fabric.

"Her light has gone; all I can see is this overwhelming darkness." She brushed her fingers across the unicorn's forehead. "Even now it's trying to destroy her."

His voice shook, "What could have done this? And why?"

"There is much I don't know. Come, Harry, I sense her son just ahead. We may already be too late."

Too late? His mind froze as he processed those two simple words. He watched absently as Elessar stood up, like she was a character in a film, in front of him but not exactly real.

Harry stood. One foot in front of the other. Good. That was something he could do. All he heard was the crunching of snow underneath his feet. He glanced down at his hands and saw he still held his mother's handkerchief now soaked in silver blood. What should he do with it now? He couldn't throw it away.

"Harry!"

He glanced up and saw Elessar in front of him, her eyebrows drawn together. Was she worried?

"You must pull yourself together."

Harry said nothing, instead his focus returned to his handkerchief. He absently traced his mother's embroidered initials. "I failed," he whispered. "My parents, they came to me for help, and I failed."

"No, Harry," Elessar replied in a soft voice. "There is another who needs our aid. Would you let him face this darkness alone?"

Her words penetrated through the haze in his mind, soft-spoken tones hinting at Elessar's own loneliness. Star's mother was gone and now he faced these dangerous trials with no family to teach him or lead the way. But right now he needed Harry's help.

He shook his head and held the handkerchief tightly to his chest, not caring about the silver staining his jacket. He would be strong.

"Will you come with me?"

He tucked the handkerchief in his pocket; he would clean it later and treasure it all the more. "I'm fine now. We should hurry."

Elessar nodded and together they followed the trail left by Celeste. The thick intertwining trees ceased as if a giant had sliced a straight line through the forest with an axe.

A rock wall loomed above them, ascending into the darkness. A few scattered trees hung off its uneven surface, their roots digging deep into the cracks. Shadows extended upwards from the light cast by his wand.

As they neared Harry saw a narrow opening in the cliff's side, a black hole with creatures he could only imagine hiding in its depths. "We've come this far."

"Then let us not turn back and continue on. The unicorn is near but will not last long."

Any fear of what was hidden within the dark caverns dissolved and he nodded. A new sense of resolution rushed through him, the surge of energy he needed to keep going. He would not fail.

The drooping branches concealed Sirius from view, his black fur the perfect camouflage. He watched Harry and Elessar descend into the cave, his claws digging into the snow.

An ingenious plan, if he thought so himself. No one would ever know what happened, the perfect set-up to dispose of his godson. Sirius didn't want to think what would have happened if he hadn't spotted the two leaving Hogwarts.

However, his rational side thought differently. After all, why would Elessar call spirits if she was going to send Harry among them? There were more questions than answers, from the evil he felt earlier to the unicorn seeking Elessar's help.

This area pulsed with power, a darkness that seemed to cling to the earth. She should never have taken Harry here.

The glass phial warmed against his fur.

_You know exactly what's going on don't you? Well, let's not keep your master waiting._

All that mattered was protecting Harry and he couldn't do that waiting outside. He dashed for the cave's entrance. He was being rash and he knew it, but that's what made him Sirius Black.

He stumbled when the cave's smell assaulted him, causing his stomach to jerk in protest. It was a mixture of rot and festering illness, the still air keeping the odors from spreading. How could she take Harry there? Could she not sense the evil?

"That is most unwise," someone called behind him.

Sirius slid several feet in the snow before his nails gripped the frozen ground. It was the voice from Halloween. He spun and his lips lifted to reveal yellowing teeth. The moon's light wasn't enough to penetrate the forest's depth.

"Who the hell are you?" He projected his thoughts, knowing that the person could hear.

"You, mortal, are not worthy of such a gift."

Mortal? Could this be a demon he was facing? Demons were the only creatures left from the ancient world, but this magic felt nothing like any demon's he'd met before. Who the bloody hell was this guy?

Sirius might be reckless, but he was no fool. He was a wizard without a wand; a head-on confrontation didn't leave him with good odds. If this guy was insinuating he was an immortal, then let another immortal deal with him.

He leapt for the cave and from the corner of his eye saw a purple light streak towards him. The light passed by him and formed a barrier around the entrance. He crashed into the shield and fell to the ground, causing snow to spray into the air. The wall shimmered for a few seconds before disappearing.

"You shall not interfere."

He lifted his nose from the snow and stood, favoring his left side. Blood pounded in his ears. "You were the one who killed the unicorn."

The hackles on his back rose and his tail stood straight out behind him. "How could you do such a thing?"

The voice did not answer. Instead Sirius felt a light pressure on his mind and he fought against the force dissolving his mental barriers. He would not let this happen again.

A beam shot from the glass phial, its light ripping through the immortal's magic.

"You dare to defy me?"

Sirius smirked. "I guess so."

"I will not allow you to fulfill my father's foresight."

Anger laced through the voice's words, a barely contained fury that caught Sirius off guard. This was the first he'd ever heard real emotion, and that was just what he needed.

"What's wrong? Daddy gave away your inheritance? Sent you away because he decided you were too evil to have around? Really, that's a shame."

Sirius felt on top, elated with triumph. He was back in his glory days with the Order, fighting against evil.

"You know nothing."

"Is that right? You're afraid of me, of something you don't want me to do. That's all I need to know."

The voice hissed, "You fool...what? Does she not fear the weakening of his prison?"

There was movement to the left and he spun towards it. In the shadows, hovering at the edge of the trees stood the outline of someone.

What the hell was he talking about? No matter, it was time he taught this immortal a lesson. Sirius crouched and smiled.

"The first test is at hand," the voice stated in his now calm tone. The cloak whipped about him, though the hood remained firmly in place. "I will have no part in what comes."

With that the figure faded, dissolving into the black depths of the forest.

"Oh no you don't!" Sirius yelled. He was about to go after the stranger when a shadow fell around him, blocking out the moon's dim light. A wave of power hit him in the back and he stumbled forward.

He wretched his body around and froze. Darkness poured out of the cave's opening, its tendrils slithering up the side of the cliff while others stretched towards the forest.

"What the hell?" In his mind he saw the image of Harry from earlier in the day, smiling with his two friends, but the image faltered as black crept along its edges. Harry was still in the cave.

"Harry!"

The darkness turned towards him and within its core he saw a face smile. The sound of laughter echoed around him.

Sirius transformed back to his human form and scrambled backwards. Black vines encircled his ankle and crept up his leg.

He gripped the phial tightly and a light blazed forth from it, so intense that he shut his eyes.

He felt curiosity and something akin to amusement coming from the darkness. When he opened his eyes he saw that a white glowing barrier surrounded him, protecting Sirius from whatever was behind the power.

Lying in the snow he heard a voice yell from within the cave, "_A Elbereth Gilthoniel o menel palan-diriel, le nallon sí di-nguruthos! A tiro nin, Fanuilos_!"

A blinding light shot out from the entrance, shattering his barrier into small particles of energy. The darkness screamed. Sirius rolled over onto this stomach and covered his ears.

"Harry," he moaned. He needed to get to Harry.


	18. Zirak

Disclaimer: I don't own any of Tolkien's or J.K. Rowling's characters. I also don't own the characters from the 'Inuyasha' anime/manga. Hope you like the new additions!

Chapter 18

The Meeting of Zirak

Elessar descended into the cave, Harry behind her. The dim light from his wand outlined the narrow passage and the cold air seeped through Harry's clothes. There was a something strange about this place; something he couldn't put his finger on. Why had the unicorns come here?

Outside the forest floor was frozen, but in here the moisture clung to the ground and stalactites. His steps echoed on the rocks, vibrating off the cave's walls. If there was anyone in here, Harry already ruined the element of surprise.

Elessar glanced behind her, eyes narrowed.

"I'm not being that loud."

"It is not you."

"Oh." Well, how was he supposed to know that?

"Something is disturbing the _fëa,_ I cannot sense anything clearly Be on guard, Harry. I wish to see you safely through this night." Elessar waved her hand and a light appeared, growing until it was the size of his fist.

He followed her again, small steps on the uneven ground. A part of him didn't what to know what was going on. The darkness hid many shadows – most of which were meant to stay hidden.

How did he get into these situations? Maybe he should take Hermione's advice for once and stay out of trouble. But this wasn't his fault. At least, not this time.

Harry ducked underneath a jagged ledge, using his hands to remain balanced against the rocks. "What is it?" he asked when Elessar stopped and glanced around her.

A small unicorn lay on the ground, his head curled towards his body. Blood poured from a gash in his side, the edges red and blistered. A dark, purple light emitted from the wound, causing it to spread further over his body.

Harry's stomach jerked and he pressed a hand against it. This couldn't be Star Dancer, it just couldn't.

Elessar crouched, her seeing light floating overhead. She shoved her braid aside and touched the unicorn's forehead. For a brief moment he glimpsed her eyes before she turned back to her task. Neither human nor elf - none of that mattered. Elessar could save him.

Harry knelt beside Elessar, his hand sliding into a liquid pool he hadn't seen. His eyes fixed on the silver blood, trailing down his fingers towards his palm. Not now, he couldn't let fear rule him now. "Can you, can you save him?"

"Yes," she said quietly. "I can."

Relief flooded Harry. At least tonight he wouldn't see another unicorn die.

Time pressed around them, the purple light that sizzled on Star Dancer's wound flared. Elessar closed her eyes and clasped the unicorn's head. "_I am Anvanime, do not lose hope. The shadow does not hold all_."

Power thrummed in her voice, the words echoed off the rock walls. The shadows lessened and he felt an answering beat within his heart.

"_It is not your time to sleep. Follow the star to revive your soul."_ Her star necklace blazed and Harry squinted, briefly blinded. The intensity ripped through the darkness, even as the unicorn's light faded.

Elessar's shoulders sagged and her hands dropped away from the unicorn's head. The light faded and blinked out.

"Are you…?" he began, but something hit him in the stomach and he doubled over. Fingers clawed at him, reaching for the very core of his being. His vision blurred and the ground beneath his feet quaked.

Harry's his knees hit the rocks with a sharp crack and he cried out. Streams of colors shattered and strands splintered into thousands of pieces. He tried to fight the current, to hold onto the physical world. Black strands grabbed his ankles pulling him downwards.

A black tide rushed towards him. There were faces in the darkness, eyeless gazes that sucked all the spirit strands they touched. The faces turned and saw him, and cruel smiles spread across their hollow mouths.

He fell into the void, away from the world he knew as the wave descended on him. A hand grabbed his shoulder. It became his anchor, even as the faces grabbed his legs, pulling him.

A blue light pervaded the spirit world drawing the darkness away from Harry. Malice swarmed and tendrils extended towards the blue light.

The faces grinned. "Where are you young one? I have waited so long."

"_A Elbereth Gilthoniel o menel palan-diriel, le nallon sí di-nguruthos! A tiro nin, Fanuilos_!" The light ripped through the center of the darkness and a white one joined the blue. They both formed an arc surrounding Harry.

The faces screeched and lashed back against the two lights. The hate and fury was so thick it suffocated Harry, closing him off from precious air even as the lights pushed back the darkness.

Harry was thrown back into the physical world and sucked in a mouthful of air. His heart beat madly against his chest and he lay there on the rock floor. He opened and closed his eyes, trying desperately to regain focus.

He needed to get out of there. It would come for him again. This wasn't Voldemort; that darkness was something else entirely.

"Harry?"

Hands gripped his shoulders and he fought back. He wouldn't let them get him.

"Harry! Hear me, you must be still." Warmth swept through him, pushing away his fear. Elessar stood over him, gripping the wall for support. "Are you all right?"

He nodded, unsure if he could trust his voice to work.

"Thank Vala."

Harry clutched his head, praying the spinning would stop. "What was that?" he croaked and tried to clear his throat.

"It was darkness, a consciousness that exists in the spirit world."

"I've never felt anything like that before. Not even Voldemort made me feel that way."

"Voldemort is mortal. There is nothing he could do, no power that he could acquire, to compare him with this shadow." Elessar let go of the wall and checked Star Dancer.

Thankfully the bleeding had stopped and whatever spell that caused the wound to worsen. The light from his horn was faint, but steady. "It was Zirak wasn't it?"

Elessar did not look at him, her attention concentrated on the unicorn. "As I said, it was darkness; an entity that has lost all connection to this world."

"You're not going to tell me are you?"

"You are safe; that is all that matters."

But was that really the truth? Was he safe? That darkness had seen him. Did it wonder why Harry was with Elessar and the unicorn, curious what a mortal boy would have to do with the others?

Even now he still saw those faces. For Harry wished that he had remained ignorant, concealed within its safety rather than facing the truth. It felt as if the walls closed in about him, slowly compressing the space where he sat.

It would be fine, just as long as Elessar was with him; he'd be safe. What he needed now was a distraction. "Will Star Dancer live?"

"I can do nothing else for him, not until we leave this place."

Harry stood up, his legs wobbling under his weight. He took out his handkerchief and wiped the blood off Star's face. At least he tried too anyway. The saturated cloth only succeeded in smearing the blood further rather than removing it.

Elessar held her forehead. Fear rushed through him at being alone in this place; he needed her there with him. "Professor?"

"I am weary, nothing more." Something passed in Elessar's eyes, too quick for Harry to catch.

He felt exhausted, like he'd just run a mile. But it was more than that. His spirit felt weak, striving for energy and a chance to recuperate. The warmth and security of Hogwarts flashed through his mind and he grabbed onto that thought. It would be a source of strength, the hope that kept him going.

"So, how are we going to get him back to Hogwarts?"

Elessar smiled, though why she smiled at all Harry had no clue. "I shall need your help."

* * *

In the shadows Sirius felt a sense of relief wash over him as he watched Elessar and Harry leave the cave. Silver blood clung to both of them, the moon's light causing it shine. A young unicorn levitated in the air with Harry behind, his wand outstretched. Streaks of smudged silver ran across Harry's face and his hair stood out at odd angles. Even from this distance, Sirius could see how exhausted Harry was, as if each step was a challenge. _But at least he's alive_. He couldn't help the grin that spread across his face. From the way it seemed Harry had a knack for trouble, just like his father.

* * *

Leagues away, across land and sea, in the western reaches of Japan, the demon lord paced in his study. Sesshomaru's long platinum hair brushed the back of his knees and his hands were buried in the deep folds of his white haori.

In the seclusion of his rooms he allowed his normal cool, indifferent mask to fall. He growled when he glanced at the papers lying on his oak desk. More useless reports, just like the demons that brought them.

For the past few weeks, since the incident on Halloween night, the wizards had swarmed him, demanding answers for the killings. "As if this Sesshomaru owed them anything."

Hanging on the wall in a protective glass was an old battered sword, the leather hilt fraying and the blade dented. For a moment he paused in front of the Tetusaiga, given to him by his half-brother, Inuyasha, as he died.

Sesshomaru's hand brushed against the hilt of his swords, the Tenseiga's and Toukijin. Their weight brought him comfort in this modern world.

Once again Sesshomaru wondered if Inuyasha realized the consequences of Naraku's actions, the murder of Japan's wizard emperor and leaving Inuyasha to take the blame. Inuyasha may have been a fool, but he did not deserve the condemnation for Naraku's treachery and the hatred of the demon world for the war that had ensued.

He glared at the old sword as if it was the cause of his current problems. All it would take was one swing by his brother's hand to destroy a hundred wizards. Now it was nothing more than an antique, a useless sword that rejected Sesshomaru.

This was no longer the feudal era where he could simply kill any who opposed him. Despite what those human reporters believed, the last thing demons wanted was another war. Their numbers, regardless of their strength, would not survive.

And the one thing Sesshomaru refused was to die by a human's hand.

Yet, this led to his current dilemma. A war was about to start, again instigated by another. The wizard governments were already in the process of changing laws, further restricting the freedom of demons.

Sesshomaru slammed his hand into a nearby chair. Pieces of wood flew in the air and the chair crumpled to the ground.

No matter how many trusted spies he sent to Europe, they all came back empty handed. He and the other lords were no fools. They knew that those demons who turned were not acting on their own accord.

It was the slight magic on the wind, a light caress that hinted at deeper meanings. Each of the lords had felt a pull in their demon blood. The need to kill, to be free of the yoke humans had placed on them, those urges beat steadily within the magic. This was not a rebellion against wizards, but something else entirely.

Why did this magic feel familiar? No matter how many times he delved in to the past, Sesshomaru couldn't place it. The other lords did not agree, but he cared less what they thought. They did not have the strength nor patience to sense the root of this foreign aura.

He retrieved the only report that held any semblance of evidence from the stack and scanned it again. A demon, who had been in the area of the wizarding town Hogsmeade at the time of the incident, claimed to have felt some power engulf his senses. His demon blood had fought against him, demanding to fight against the threat.

Sesshomaru tossed the paper back onto his table.

The word of a lesser demon was little better than that of a wizard's. However, he would not disregard the witness out of hand as the other lords had done. But who had enough power to force demons to lose control of their blood and then leave no trail?

His face fell back into his typical bored expression, smoothing out the anger to simmer beneath the surface. It appeared that he would have to revert to more resourceful means.

Sesshomaru turned to summon his retainer Jaken when he felt a prickling of magic at the edge of his senses. He froze and lifted his nose as he tried to catch the scent.

He knew this magic, in fact had been sensing it for the past few hundred years. It was always faint, just a feeling, nothing more than a brush that faded after a moment.

His eyes narrowed. This time was different. The magic felt stronger and almost tasted the dormant power.

The pieces clicked into place. This power was the same that he felt on Halloween, the one that had driven the lesser demons to their blood. That was why it had seemed familiar to him; he'd been sensing for it hundreds of years. What was it and why now had it finally awakened?

A voice drifted on the air current. "_My general_."

Sesshomaru raised his head and spoke in a deep, commanding tone, "Who are you?"

Silence answered him. Light from the morning sun peeked out from the fringes of his dark blue curtains. The faint trace of the voice's magic hung in the air, a feeling that settled on Sesshomaru's shoulders.

He didn't move, his body tense as he waited. From the corner of his eye he saw the sunlight fade as if suddenly blocked by a passing cloud. Sesshomaru breathed in icy air and his eyes narrowed, the only sign that he was surprised over the sudden temperature change.

The voice laughed. "_I am known as Zirak; your master_."

Sesshomaru growled, the strength of it vibrating his study. No one would speak in such a way to him.

Frost crept underneath his door, spreading out along the floor heading towards him. Icicles formed on the branching arms of his hanging lamps. Sesshomaru placed a calm hand on Toukijin but did not retreat. "I bow to none."

"_But do you not want power? To be freed from the binds of worthless humans?" _

The lights in the room extinguished with a loud pop. A blast of power hit Sesshomaru head on. Never in his long life had he felt malice such as this, the very essence of it steeped in magic from the ancient world, long since thought to have been lost to time.

Sesshomaru sliced through the magic using Toukijin's own dark aura. His silver hair streamed behind him, a stark contrast against the darkness.

The voice laughed, resonating about the room. "_I am the darkness, General_."

Shadowed vines crept down Toukijin's blade toward his hand and the sword's dimmed. Sesshomaru tossed the sword aside before the dark magic engulfed him. He would rip this intruder to shreds, daring to impede on his home and think to call him servant.

A red gleam surrounded his body, pushing back the magic. The golden hue of his eyes bled crimson and his pupils changed to violet pinpricks. The crescent moon on his forehead, the symbol of his family's status, blazed with power.

"_The Vala will tremble at your might."_

The red around Sesshomaru brightened as his fury mounted.

"_You wish to be free of me? You are the darkness. Your kind was created to serve_."

Sesshomaru gripped the edge of his desk as the voice called to his blood. The stripes on his cheeks turned jagged and his claws lengthened, digging further into the desk as he transformed into his true demon form.

The Tensiega pulsed against him, its aura seeping through the dark power.

The voice's laugh faltered for a moment as Sesshomaru drew Tenseiga, the only sword which held power over the dead.

"_You will be mine_ _just as your ancestors stood beside Morgoth_."

"You will die by this Sesshomaru's hands!" He cut through the darkness with Tenseiga just as his demon aura shot upwards, breaking through the magic barrier. The sleeves of his haori and his hair sprawled above. Shock waves slammed into the room, straining against the walls for freedom.

"_None can destroy me_, _not even her_," the voice said before it faded.

Sesshomaru stood in his silent study and sparks of his power fizzled in the air. Scrolls and books lay scattered on the floor.

The red from his eyes was gone and his facial markings had returned to their normal shapes. Underneath his calm composure, his demon self demanded the blood of the one who dared to defy him.

There was none alive, demon or wizard, more powerful than him. Yet, that voice had been strong enough to begin his transformation.

How many other demons had fallen to their blood this day, slaughtering hundreds of humans? If he, Lord Sesshomaru, felt the pull of this being's power how many other demons had been lost?

His eyes narrowed.

This power was ancient magic and there was none left from that era, last felt during his grandfather's time. All except one.


	19. Day After

Chapter 19

The Day After

Remus's hand shook, spilling the herbal remedy from of the goblet. He sighed and examined the purple stains on his record parchment. Another one ruined. He didn't look forward to explaining to Madame Pomfrey that he'd gotten more of the potion onto his papers than inside his stomach.

It had been a bad idea to catch up while in this condition. The problem was he couldn't just sit around and do nothing. His mind would wander and right now he needed to focus on something, anything.

Last night just after midnight he'd been assaulted by a terrible force, more powerful than anything he'd felt before. That voice beckoned him to release his hold, whispering of the power sleeping within his blood.

His werewolf had heard. Remus gripped the sides of desk willing away all his frustration and fear.

At the time he'd been tossing in his bed unable to find peace in sleep. The whole day he'd felt restless, like something familiar was urging him to be outside. When the power attacked it hit Remus full force. He'd staggered out of the bed, fingers digging into his chest right above his heart.

His dark blood surged, recognizing the faint voice. It wanted him to let go, to be the power Remus had locked away with his humanity. The werewolf howled in desire, straining against him for freedom. His spirit had fought for control.

Somehow during his inner battle, Remus felt something snap. Little pieces had shattered along the edges, but he didn't know of what. He couldn't even tell if it was his own control that was breaking or something else entirely. And then the voice had laughed.

Remus believed himself to be a practical man who used logic and facts more than speculation or belief throughout his life. However, what he felt last night was pure evil. That was the only way he could describe it.

No matter how many times he turned around that abstract word 'evil,' he realized that the power he felt was the exact definition.

Remus ran a hand down his face and massaged his temples. He needed to tell Dumbledore the truth. The werewolf was getting stronger. Yet, he still remained sitting in the same chair as he had been for the past two hours.

Lying innocently on the table to the left of him was the breaking news of _The Daily Prophet_. He'd read the article at least four times hoping that the wording would change and the killings that had taken place last night would simply disappear.

He had no such luck.

The headliner on the front page flashed in bright gold letters, "Blood Running Freely." He cringed at the choice of words, most likely the reporter having no idea the true meaning behind them.

The demons had lost control again. Unlike last time where the incident was only concentrated around the surrounding area of Hogwarts, this time the power was felt around the world. In over three dozen countries there had been reports of demons losing control to their blood, transforming into killing machines.

Demons, however, weren't the only ones who had lost control. There were only three cases, but as far as he was concerned, that was too many. Three werewolves had turned _feral_.

He had been so close to following. What had Calrheane done? What had she unleashed?

Hours after the incident Dumbledore had come to check on him. Thankfully, Remus had regained control though his body was weak. One look at Remus and Dumbledore had quickly called for Madame Pomfrey and explained the situation.

Calrheane had taken Harry without consent into the Dark Forest, for a reason that Dumbledore had not disclosed to Remus.

For a brief moment he forgot the voice and the power it held over him. How dare Calrheane take Harry while Sirius was out there, waiting for the perfect opportunity to strike? How could she willingly put Harry's in harms way?

Harry was all Remus had left.

His body shook from fatigue and his fits unclenched. This would accomplish nothing. He would speak with Calrheane about her actions even though he was sure Dumbledore had already done so.

Remus was positive of one thing though, the voice that drove these demons and werewolves to their blood was not the same as the power that had attacked him on Halloween. The signature magic from the two were similar, but an obvious difference existed.

Dumbledore explained that he was looking into this matter, but Remus had a feeling that Dumbledore knew more than he was letting on. It was the look in Dumbledore's eyes, the calming tone that sought to reassure Remus. This, of course, was normal behavior for Dumbledore when facing a crisis, but Remus couldn't shake the feeling that he was being left in the dark.

And right in the thick of all this was Calrheane who knew exactly what was going on. The words she spoke nearly two months ago hinted at this, some ancient evil that was awakening. Was this what she had meant?

"Um, Professor Lupin?" Harry stood in the doorway, his hair sticking out at odd angle. Dark circles rimmed his eyes and he looked at Remus with a haunted expression.

Without thinking of his own weakened state, Remus got up and motioned Harry in. His legs shook from the sudden weight and he gripped the back of his chair.

"Are you all right?"

"Just tired. Can I get you some tea Harry? It looks like we both could use it."

The lost expression on Harry's face disappeared and for a fleeting moment Remus thought he glimpsed happiness. Harry nodded.

Remus pulled out some tea bags and cups, thankful that he had requested a kettle of hot water from the house elves. Using deliberate care so as not to have a repeated incident with his healing potion, Remus made tea. He handed one cup to Harry and sat back down.

Harry stared at the tea in his hands, his eyebrows drawn down.

"Go on, Harry, it'll help." With each sip Remus took he felt his strength returning. Perhaps this is the remedy he should have sought from the very beginning instead of that horrible potion.

"Thanks." Harry blinked before finally drinking the tea. He scanned the papers on his table, finally landing on the newspaper. "So you heard?"

"Yes." Traces of anger from earlier flared back. Harry wouldn't have been there if it wasn't for Calrheane; he would have been safe. More than anything he wanted to reach over and reassure Harry, promising to protect him.

But he couldn't. It was too dangerous to get close to Harry, not when Remus's control was slowly slipping away.

Remus put down his teacup. "Harry, why don't you tell me what happened?"

Harry looked up in surprise. "How did you know?"

"Dumbledore informed the staff."

Snow splattered against the window, slowly accumulating in clumps on the windowsill. Sunlight peeked through the clouds but not enough to dispel the coming storm.

"Hermione and Ron didn't feel anything," Remus said.

"No, they didn't."

Harry's friends couldn't help him, unable to understand the pure evil that Harry had faced. They could understand Voldemort, a human who had fallen to his twisted desires, but not this.

"Have you heard anything about Star Dancer? Is he going to be alright?" Harry asked.

"They aren't sure, though Madame Pomfrey is hopeful."

"Is Elessar with him?"

Calmness, that's what Remus needed right now even as he gathered a fistful of robe. She hadn't known what would happen, of the danger Harry would be put in by this darkness. "I have not spoken with her."

"Oh." Harry rubbed the sides of the teacup with his thumbs and stared into the dark brown liquid. "I know you're mad at her for taking me out last night without Dumbledore's permission, it's just that..."

"Harry, what she did was reckless," Remus snapped. "Sirius Black is out there waiting to finish what he started twelve years ago."

He didn't want to hear Harry sticking up for her, not when she had put so much at risk, and not when he couldn't understand why her silence hurt him so much. "Your parents died protecting you and she goes gallivanting with you in the middle of the night. As a teacher she has no excuse."

"Professor, you don't understand!"

The plea in Harry's voice caused Remus to pause. Something else happened and it had nothing to do with how close Harry had been to losing his life. "Tell me."

"I saw my parents."

Pressure built in Remus's chest, a hand gripped his heart, slowly tightening. He tried to speak. This wasn't possible. James and Lily were dead. "What did you say?"

"I spoke with my parents."

An eerie feeling settled over him. He remembered his restlessness last night, the need to be somewhere, as if he were being compelled. It reminded him of flying, wind swept hair and a laughing voice. But that wasn't possible. James was dead.

"Harry, I know you're upset about what happened last night but you can't speak with your parents. They're gone."

"I know, but that's why I was able to talk with them."

Remus shook his head and made to get up. "I'm going to get Madame Pomfrey, perhaps she could give you something to help..."

Harry grabbed Remus's arm. "I've had enough sleeping draughts for today. Please, Professor Lupin, you have to listen to me. I don't know who else to talk too."

How could he make Harry understand? A small part of him, the one that still believed in hope knew what Harry was saying was true. But Remus couldn't believe. That path only led to despair.

Remus glanced down at the hand gripping his arm. Harry needed him to believe.

"All right." It was as if those words opened up a floodgate and the weariness he had pushed aside came rushing back. He slid back into his chair. "Why don't you start from the beginning?"

For the first time since Harry had come to him, a smile lit Harry's face as Harry told him what happened in the glade. With that one simple action Remus's heart swelled; to think that he was the reason Harry just smiled.

"Why did Elessar take you with her?" Remus asked, shaking himself from his thoughts.

"She didn't want to take me, at least not at first."

"But then why?"

"It was my parents."

Remus fought back the denial he was ready to shout out, to tell Harry believing in shades was no way of living, but he couldn't shake the look in Harry's eyes. There was no lie or deception.

"Their spirits called me." Harry stared at the window. "Last night was special, I don't remember the name Elessar gave it, but the boundary between our world and the _fëa_ was weakened. It only happens once a year."

"That still gives her no excuse to leave without permission."

"I know, but I don't think there wasn't much time. She took me to this strange glade." Harry looked up at Remus and it seemed that his eyes were lit with wonder. "You should have seen it; I never knew a place like that existed."

"What do you mean?"

"There was no winter, no snow on the ground, like it was always springtime. Elessar summoned the spirits and they came."

A glass of wine would have made this easier to hear. How long had Remus dreamed of seeing James one last time, to tell his friend how sorry he was for failing?

Whether or not she knew, Calrheane had given Harry a gift more precious than anything else in the world. And to see that love shining from Harry, Remus couldn't help but silently thank her.

Harry closed his eyes for a brief moment. "They told me they were proud."

Remus hesitated, knowing that he should keep his distance. But he didn't. He placed reached across the table and gripped Harry's shoulder. "Your parents are proud of everything you've done. You should never doubt that."

"I know, but to hear them say it. They told me they loved me."

Oh, how he wanted to tell Harry right then. To tell Harry everything, of how his parents fought to protect him, how much they loved him, but also how much Remus loved him.

They sat there allowing time to pass them by. Remus didn't remove his hand from Harry's shoulder and instead allowed himself this small moment. However, responsibility wasn't something he could put off for long and he retracted his hand.

Harry gave him a small smile and then his eyes wandered back to the newspaper lying on Remus's desk.

"Something else happened. The unicorn's mother, Celeste, told me I looked like my dad. Do you know anything about that?"

"No, I don't." James never mentioned meeting a unicorn but the only one who would know was someone Remus wasn't about to ask. If anyone knew about a unicorn, it would be Sirius.

The hopeful expression on Harry's face fell.

"What else is wrong? Did James say something else?"

"I'm not sure really. I didn't tell Elessar this, but my Dad told me that the son needed to be protected."

"You mean the young unicorn? The one that Calr- Professor Elessar saved?"

Harry nodded. "My parents made it sound like he was really important."

There were too many coincidences. First an elf returning to the mortal world, mysterious powers unleashing demon and werewolf blood, and now James and Lily were reaching beyond death to warn Harry.

"Did they say anything else?"

Harry shook his head. "I can't remember. Everything's a haze."

"That can happen when your mind is not able to logically process everything that occurred, and you had a busy night." Remus hoped to keep his tone light. Harry needed to be reassured right now that everything was being taken care of.

"Yeah, I know. There was something else though that I wanted to know."

"And what's that?"

However, what Harry asked next was something that Remus hadn't been expecting. "Why did you and Elessar get in a fight? What was it about?"

Remus ran a hand through his hair hoping to compose himself before answering. This was the last question he'd been expecting. "Harry, I'm not really sure how that's relevant."

"You know, after only a few months I've learned that you can't just think straight with Elessar. There's always a twist or some hidden meaning." Harry remained silent for several moments, fiddling with the corner of the newspaper. "I think you got in a fight because of something she said, or more likely, something she didn't say."

"All right, let's say that was the cause of our fight. What made you come to that conclusion?"

Harry shrugged. "That's the only ting that made sense. I can't see Elessar letting your friendship fall apart for anything other than her secrets. Plus, I don't see you giving up unless it was over something serious."

"And what does this have to do with last night?"

Harry rubbed the back of his neck. "I asked her about you last night and I couldn't help but think about something she said to me."

"And what was that?" Remus his heart beat against his chest. They talked about him? Anticipation shot through him even as he cursed himself for feeling this way. She had betrayed him, choosing her silence over their friendship.

Not noticing the turmoil coming from his teacher, Harry continued. "Elessar said that dying from love would be an easier death than what fate had planned for her. And then not an hour later that darkness attacked us. I just couldn't help but wonder if that's what she had been referring too."

Dying from love? What could that mean? The only time they had come close to speaking of the subject was Halloween night when Calrheane had referred to a close friend.

And either way, he refused to care or even be curious. There was nothing without trust.

Harry closed his eyes as if trying to shut out some memory, which immediately grabbed Remus's attention.

"Harry? Are you all right?"

"You don't know what it was like," he whispered. "I've never felt anything like that before, not even when facing Voldemort or dementors."

"I do know." _More than I would like_, Remus thought.

"I've never felt so much hate, it was like I was drowning. Whoever the darkness was or whatever the voice was, it wanted to kill her." Harry shivered and gripped the teacup, his knuckles white.

Had she known about this darkness's desire to kill her? Was that why she pushed him aside? Remus forced aside the fear that nagged at him. She had chosen her secrets over him; he would not let the memory of their friendship cloud his judgement.

Yet, she was not entirely to blame for his anger and hurt, instead simply another piece to a larger picture. The one Sirius had started.

Harry looked at Remus. "And I think that's what you two got in a fight over. She let something slip about this darkness but then wouldn't tell you what she meant."

There was pain in Harry's voice, a need to know the truth. Remus wished that he could say that this didn't concern him; he was only a boy after all. However, the truth was Remus didn't have that excuse anymore.

Harry was involved whether he liked it or not.

"You're right," Remus said. He noticed that there was no surprise on Harry's features. Harry had known the truth and was only waiting for confirmation. "If you knew this already, then why come to me?"

"I didn't have anyone else to go too. Dumbledore knows what's going on, knows what tried to kill Elessar and I, but he wouldn't say anything. And I have to know."

The desperation in Harry pulled at Remus and he once again wished that he had the power to take that pain away, to allow Harry to be a normal boy. Yet, life kept putting Harry in situations that demanded he grow up.

"I thought I didn't want to know," Harry continued, "at first I was just too afraid. I guess I still am. But I can't just stop thinking about it or remembering..." his voice trailed off.

"I'm sorry, Harry, I don't know what's going on. I'm in the dark as much as you are."

They fell silent, the ticking clock echoing in the room. A huge gulf separated the two and the distance was too great for Remus to jump over. He wanted to keep Harry close to him, protecting him from whatever evil was lurking on the horizon. Instead, Remus just sat there unsure of what to do or so.

After all, his weakness had been made clear. It would not be safe for Harry to be near him; not until he understood what this darkness was and why he was losing control to his werewolf. He would not hide from the truth. There was a possibility he could turn _feral_ and he would not put Harry's safety at risk.

"It happened again," Harry said quietly indicating the newspaper with a tilt of his chin.

Remus nodded. "Yes. The situation is deeper rooted than the Ministry realizes."

"What I felt last night, that darkness, was that what drove the demons to their blood?"

"Yes. For so many demons to lose control like this around the world," he shook his head unable to continue. Had Harry read the part about the three werewolves? "I don't know of any force that could control that kind of power."

"But Elessar does," Harry whispered. "And it knew her."

Remus's stomach twisted. How much had she told Harry while he knew nothing? How could she tell a boy while keeping him in the dark? And whywould she saying anything like this to Harry – he was a student!

"She called it a name, 'Zirak.' Do you know anything?"

"No, I don't."

"Oh."

Remus rubbed his forehead, feeling another headache coming on. Like Harry, he needed answers, but the people with those refused to give them. Had Calrheane known what would happen to him when this dark power was released? Did she know that the voice would seek him out?

From the corner of his eye, Remus watched as Harry took another sip from his tea. There was a little more color on his face, a pink tint on his cheeks. What would happen now?

He glanced down at his hands and rubbed the tips of his fingers together. This 'Zirak' had called to the werewolf; it wanted him.


	20. Coming to Terms

Through Darkness and Light

Chapter 20

Coming to Terms

_The shadow hunted her, its finger-like tendrils probing for her scent. Tiny black dots raced across her vision. She blinked, but they only grew worse. _

"_Run, run, run," repeated in her mind. _

_Invisible hands pushed down on her shoulders, crushing her further to the spot. No, this couldn't be happening. How did he find her so quickly? It was too soon! She grabbed her legs and struggled to yank them from the floor. _

_A deep voice echoed in the black fog, "You cannot hide." The darkness expanded horizontally, stretching thin and surrounding her. It clung to her throat. The heaviness increased, its cold fingers wrapped around her, slowly squeezing. _

Calrheane jerked awake and instinctively clutched her throat. Her chest throbbed, as if her lungs were about to collapse.

Light slashed across the ceiling, purple and blue intersecting a yellowish pink. Color?

"Calrheane? Calrheane!"

Her eyes snapped shut. No, not the voice; he couldn't have found her. She threw her arms out, refusing to let the darkness take her. The weight increased, pushing her down as she struggled to breathe.

"Calm down it's me, Remus."

She froze and it felt like all her energy drained away. "Remus?" her voice hoarse and she swallowed to recover some moisture.

"Yes, it's me."

He leaned over her, lines caused from lack of sleep shadowed his eyes and his hands encircled her wrists. Stray pieces of brown hair fell across his forehead. His eyes flicked to her wrists and he jerked his hands back as if they had been burned.

Even though her mind resembled a bog, restricting her movements and thoughts, she still felt a sharp pain at his reaction to touching her. The safety she had found in his presence was gone, leaving behind an empty void. Why did she feel this way?

Several wisps of Calrheane's air stuck to her cheeks and her blouse was plastered to her chest. She touched her face and found there were wet smudges on her hand. How was this possible?

Light shown through her stained-glass balcony window, projecting color onto the ceiling. So that's where the color had come from.

"You had a nightmare," his voice was toneless and void of any emotion.

She let her eyes wander around the room, the familiar sights helping to sooth her mind. The unicorn lay on the floor, his head was propped up on a pillow. Sweat dotted across his white fur and his neck muscles twitched like he was shivering.

"How long has it been?"

He frowned. "Since when?"

"Since we found him."

"Two days, though I'm not sure how long you've been out."

"I see."

The world dissolved before her, physical objects morphing into streams of color as she looked into the _fëa_ current. Yes, it was still there; a gray strand circled Star's head. Who had attacked him and his mother? And why did the magic feel so familiar, almost a mirror image of her own but darker?

"What do you see?"

Hearing Remus's voice, she pulled away from the spirit world. "There is a shadow that clings to him still, a remnant power left over from whoever attacked, but he shall live."

Star's bandages had been cleaned recently from the looks of it and he hadn't changed positions from the last time she had seen him. When was that? An hour or two ago, maybe more?

"I fell asleep."

She said this more to herself than Remus and was surprised to see she had lasted as long as she did without collapsing. However, as she feared, Zirak had been waiting for her in the small space of time when the mind wandered the boundary between the physical and spiritual worlds.

She heard Remus talking, but his voice was only a dull hum.

Images came back from the hidden recesses of her subconscious, as if her mind had only made a feeble attempt at concealing the dream in the first place. _The shadow had slithered up her legs, encasing her body in ice. She tried to scream, but the shadow slid into her mouth_.

Remus gripped her arm tightly. "Listen, stay with me."

She heard the concern in his voice and grabbed onto that, an anchor to draw her back.

"I am only weary," she whispered.

Even now the shadow clawed for her, reaching beyond the dream. No, she needed to get a hold of herself.

"You know very well that I don't believe that."

"Yes, I am aware." Calrheane unconsciously reached up and gripped the hand on her shoulder. "Thank you."

Remus nodded. A few heartbeats passed with Remus leaning over her and Calrheane holding his hand. The moment was fleeting, an elusive melody being carried on the wind, and then Remus pulled back with his hand dropping to his side.

The soft expression on his face faded to a grimace, his lips tightening and his brows drawing close together. He straightened his robe and the brown suit underneath it, all his attention on rearranging his clothes.

"Nightmares can be fickle things," he said though he still did not look at her, "often our subconscious will mirror what we're feeling at the time. Stress, guilt, regret, perhaps even love can be manifested into fears. I find nightmares to be quite truthful."

His meaning was not lost on her. If she were gifted with the power over time she would have immediately erased the hurtful words she had spoken to him all those weeks ago. They had both said much, jabs meant to harm, to make the other feel a similar pain.

"Nothing to say?" he asked when she remained silent. "Well, I can't say I'm surprised. That's the _human_ thing to do after all, deny our fears and what we can't control."

"Remus..."

"Tell me what's going on."

An uncomfortable silence stretched between them, she could almost hear echoes of their last conversation if she concentrated hard enough.

Remus smoothed out his shirt with his hands, flattening out unseen wrinkles and nodded. "Very well. Apparently I don't know you at all."

"No, that's not true," her voice broke and she fought against the growing desperation, coiling in her stomach and waiting for the moment when she lost control. She couldn't let him leave.

"It is, and we both know it. Stop fooling yourself. I don't know who you are and no one ever will because you simply won't let anyone get close."

Calrheane closed her eyes and concentrated on breathing. No, he was wrong. It wasn't she who pushed people away; it was their fear of her that they kept their distance. She shook her head. It wasn't her fault.

"I knew someone once, a long time ago, who was very passionate in everything he did, including all the pranks he and his best friend would pull."

His voice broke through her thoughts and she wondered whom he was referring too.

Remus's body shook from whatever memory he was reliving and his fists clenched. "He probably would have told you, 'You can't keep running from me,' but I'm not him." Remus looked at her, "I won't say that. You can run as far as you want but I won't be waiting."

He made to turn and Calrheane shot up from her chair. "Why? Is it because I'm keeping secrets or is it because you believe I don't trust you?"

"They are the same thing."

"No, they are not."

Remus's shoulders sagged and he faced her. "So then tell me."

"I have shared more with you than any before," she paused and the image of blonde-haired elf with caring eyes flashed by, "including the one I left behind. It was never about trust why I said nothing."

"Harry knows."

"I," she stopped and looked away, "both around you and Harry, I have spoken of things that should never have been said."

"And that makes it okay? The fact that you let something slip but answered his question..." Remus's voice trailed off, but Calrheane knew what was not said. _And not mine_, his eyes seemed to say.

Her initial reasons for not telling him the truth were lost on her now; to explain that it had been for his own safety and protection would only be a slap in the face. And yet, what could she say? What was the reason she even now felt a pull in her heart, a tightening of her chest at the thought of telling him about Zirak?

She was afraid.

"You told Harry." Remus shook his head and paced about the room. "You took him to face an evil more dangerous than anything he could hope to stand up against without consent. He could have _died_."

"Yes."

Denial was a response that was closed off to her; she deserved all the anger Remus threw at her for it was her choices that brought them to this point.

Remus pulled at his robes in frustration. "How could you tell him?"

The fury bleached from his face as he said those words and she finally saw just how much hurt she'd caused him. There were others in this world that were alone, that did not have a companion like Shra to make them face fears or offer comfort when its needed most.

She was the one who'd turned her back on him. And for what? To keep some secret for her kin that would never accept her? Unlike Remus, who had?

"Look, just forget about it. I don't care," he said with a weary voice, the burdens he carried finally succeeding in weighing his spirit down. He headed towards the door.

Fear equivalent to the moment she'd saved Star Dancer and felt Zirak approaching, rushed through her. Remus was walking away, just as she had done.

"Remus! Please wait!" She rushed after him, knocking over a chair that her long skirt had caught.

He stopped and turned around. His eyebrows rose in surprise, but the weary expression on his face didn't change.

She reached out to grab his shoulder. Remus must have seen this for flinched back. Calrheane didn't care, for once giving into the urgings of her spirit. She would not let him walk away.

Her hand clenched around his arm. If she held on tight enough then he wouldn't disappear, wouldn't leave her. "Please, don't go."

Remus stared at her hand and she unconsciously tightened her grip, afraid that he might pull away from her. "Calrheane..."

"No, don't. This is my fault. I was a fool to choose my secrets over you; secrets that I don't even want."

"Then why?"

"Because I was afraid. My whole life, living with my family and while in Valinor, both elves and man knew what I had to do. And for that, mortals feared me while elves saw me as a reminder of their weakness."

His dark brown eyes bore into hers, almost as if they willed her to continue, to tell him everything. And for some reason, that brought her comfort. He had yet to pull away, to sneer down at her or look upon her with pity as so many others had done.

"In this world, only Dumbledore knows why I have come back. The reason I said nothing to you was not because I feared for your safety," she looked down at her hand and closed her eyes, "but because I was unsure if you would turn from me as well."

Willing her hand to relax, she let go of his arm and stepped back. Coldness seemed to wrap about her, encasing her in a shield that even blocked out the warmth being emitted from the fireplace.

Before her hand lowered, Remus reached out and grabbed it with his own. Her head snapped up, confusion crossing her features as her mouth hung wide.

"I haven't left you, even while I was angry, and I won't ever." He spoke in a soft voice, the words deepening from the emotion behind them. "I _know_ what it feels like to be alone and rejected, but I also know what it means to finally be accepted."

Calrheane glanced down at her hand, now held securely by his. "Thank you."

Remus nodded and for several moments they stood like that, letting time pass by without thought or care. And truly, she treasured it. For a few heartbeats there was no worries, no fear of the path that awaited her or questions that plagued her mind. It was just the two of them, finding solace in the other.

Finally, Calrheane stepped back, allowing her hand to slide free of his. Remus had waited enough for the truth. "I wish to tell you of Alcarinor, the elven prince who fell into shadow and became known as Zirak."

Relief washed over Remus's face, his cheek muscles relaxing as he took a deep breath. "Please," he whispered, "I need to know."

"First, you must know that Harry only knows of a name, Zirak, and that he is a shadow existing in the _fëa_ world."

"So you didn't tell Harry what it really was? That Zirak was an elf?"

She shook her head. "I did not and the meaning would have been lost on him. Remus, you must understand it was not my intention to take Harry with me that night."

"But his parents compelled you too?"

"How...?"

"Harry told me."

Calrheane nodded. "I am glad that he sought comfort from you; the strength I had to give was not what he needed. You did for him what I could not."

She caught a fleeting smile pass across his face. It had been no secret of Remus's desire to help Harry, to be the adult Harry went to for support. However, Harry would never have needed that aid if it hadn't been for her lapse.

"There is much that is happening now that I do not understand, but I will tell you what I can," Calrheane continued. "This tale goes back to the 1st Age, at the time of Morgoth, the first Dark Lord."

"You have mentioned Morgoth in passing and if I remember correctly, another served him, I believe his name was Sauron."

"Yes, Sauron was the Dark Lord my father, Aragorn, fought during his time."

_Father_, she thought to herself, _would you be ashamed of my failings if you were here now? Or is that why you and mother have never appeared during Yavieba?_

She closed her eyes for a moment, recalling the last images she had seen of him, sitting atop the throne. Gray entwined with his once brown hair, but even with age his aura commanded power.

A light pressure on her arm brought her back to the present. Remus stared down at her, a look of concern in his eyes.

Calrheane nodded, letting him know that she was fine. And indeed, she was the best she could be. Her duty was approaching before she was ready, but for once the feeling of regret wasn't all consuming as she thought of her parents, just a slight twinge that carried to her heart. Perhaps she was finally healing.

"So how does Zirak fit into all this?" Remus asked.

"You must understand, Zirak is rarely spoken of by my kin, his very name forgotten by history but not by memory."

The black fog from her dream crept upon the corners of her conscious. The hairs on her arms rose and she felt the sensation of someone watching her. She gripped the Evenstar necklace. The darkness was searching for her.

"Forgotten?" Remus voice once again broke through her thoughts. "But if Zirak played such an important part, to the point where he's still alive, how could their 'history' forget him?"

"Because of their shame," she said, taking a deep breath. "The 1st Age was a dark time, many atrocities were committed by elves." She glanced at the unicorn, her eyes lingering for a moment before returning back to Remus. "In the name of revenge many were killed."

"Revenge?"

"Yes, many elves swore on their lives to destroy Morgoth for the ones he killed and his stealing of the Silmarills, magic jewels created from the light of the trees. For this cause the kinslaying occurred, where elf killed elf. The elves who went against the Vala were the Noldor elves and they are my kin. Alcarinor, however, was not a Noldor elf but one of the Vanyar."

"Vanyar? That sounds familiar."

"I have spoken to you of Ingwe who charged me with gifting to Sirius Black the Star-glass. Alcarinor was the youngest of Ingwe's sons."

Remus's eyes went wide and he shook his head. "I'm not sure I'm hearing you right. This darkness, the one that's been calling to the demons blood, was the son of an elven king?"

"Yes," she whispered. "Alcarinor saw the greatness of the Vala and held deep respect for them. However, Morgoth was able to taint that respect with his empty promises.

"Alcarinor came to believe that the Vala were jealous of elves and what they could potentially become. He understood that the gift of creation was a power meant for elves, but the Vala purposefully held them back out of fear."

"And because of this, Alcarinor went against his people?"

"There was nothing evil in this at first, just a desire to be like the Vala, admiration that transformed into jealousy and then hatred. Grief did not blind Alcarinor, but he went to Morgoth with open eyes. The shame elves hold is because of the realization that they are susceptible to the darkness in their hearts; the knowledge that any of them could be turned is why Alcarinor is never spoken of."

"So what did he do that made him," Remus scratched the back of his neck, clearly uncomfortable, "you know, evil?"

Calrheane tilted her head, curious why this bothered him, but let the matter drop. First she would tell him the truth and allow the heaviness in her heart to be lifted at finally being able to share her burden with another.

"He proved his loyalty to Morgoth."

Remus closed his eyes and she saw him shudder, as if he already knew what she spoke of.

"Remus?" she asked, reaching out to his arm.

His eyes snapped open and drew back at her touch. "I'm sorry, the cold got to me all of a sudden."

Calrheane had been fortunate enough never to be slapped during her life, but she'd seen many mortal women used this method. Hearing a hand smacking against cheek would cause her to wince on the inside; she could almost feel that sharp pain from the sound alone. Right now though, that was the only way she could describe what she was feeling. Was she not telling him what had driven them apart in the first place? But then why did he recoil from her?

"What did Morgoth promise Alcarinor?" Remus prompted, shifting closer to her as if he knew her feelings had been hurt.

She sighed at his dodge back to the conversation. Could it be that he felt Zirak as well that night? She shook her head. It would not do for her to force the subject on him if he wasn't ready to speak of it. And if he chose not to be in her company then she would respect that.

"Morgoth promised Alcarinor, who at this point was now called 'Zirak,' the power to become one of the Vala."

"How could he do that?"

"By stealing the spirit of others, specifically elves and unicorns."

Remus took a deep breath. "I'm not sure I want to know, but how was that possible? And what good would that do?"

Calrheane's mouth twisted downwards in disgust, remembering what Galadriel had told her from those times, of the elves that had been taken deep underground for years on end as the dark magic pulsed throughout their body. With great precision their spirit was bleed from them, an agonizing process that not even a mountain could stifle the screams.

"That allowed Zirak to increase his connection with the _fëa_ world. The more powerful his spirit, the closer he draws to becoming a Vala."

"You mean like a god?"

She nodded, her attention falling to the unicorn lying on the floor. Sweat poured off his brow and he shivered. How would Star take to seeing her? An elf that was part of the race that had abandoned his people thousands of years ago? Would he also carry resentment and hatreds towards her for the mistakes of the past?

Remus regarded the unicorn before turning back to her. "So why didn't the elves deal with Zirak? If they had, he wouldn't be here now."

"They couldn't, he was just too powerful. The only reason Morgoth finally fell was because the Valar came to the aid of elves and mortals. However, the Valar wouldn't destroy Zirak, believing that elves should take care of their own. So they sealed him away."

"And now?"

Calrheane was silent, not wishing to confirm out loud to Remus what she had known for years. Speaking to Shra was one thing; however, with Remus it felt like something else entirely, like the truth was finally upon her. But was the point? Zirak was the reason she had returned in the first place, having felt the stirrings of his conscious and his malice all the way in Valinor.

"The bonds are weakening and soon he will be free." The room seemed to constrict and close in about her as spoke those words. _He will be free_, tumbled around in her mind. And she wouldn't be ready.

Panic rushed through her as she finally allowed herself to remember the other night, of the darkness that swarmed over her, Harry and Star. Even now she could hear Zirak's voice calling out to her, "_I have waited so long_."

She headed towards the balcony and pulled back the stained-glass doors. A blast of cold air assaulted her face and she gasped for air.

The woven rugs on her floor muffled Remus's frantic footsteps, though not enough where she couldn't hear him. He knelt down next to her and she felt his arm encircle her shoulders.

Calrheane clutched onto his arm and shut her eyes as she tried to force her body back under control. How much longer would it be before Zirak broke free? How would she stop him when the other night had taken so much from her?

Her fingers tightened around Remus's arm. He, Harry, Hermione, and all the others would be in danger. They would die if she failed.

"Calrheane, it's alright," Remus called out to her, his soothing voice breaking through her frantic mind. "You're safe."

Safe? She would have laughed if she had the breath. No, there was nothing in this world that could protect her, not even Valinor would have offered a haven for her.

She felt Remus's warm body against hers, slowly sending away the chill that threatened to consume her. Perhaps for this moment she was safe, at least enough to give into her fears for a split second.

And that's what she did. Images of her youngest sister dying by the Dannen's hand flashed through Calrheane's mind. She saw all those moments; her mother's death as she fought the Dannen, Zirak's dark essence invading the _fëa_ world as it sought her. All the while Remus held her, a silent promise to not let her go.

Calrheane didn't know how long they stayed like that, but eventually she became aware of the world around her. Her fingers were numb and she shivered.

As if sensing the change in her, Remus stood up, helping her to her feet as well. "Are you okay?"

His eyes did not leave hers and she wondered if this was how the students felt whenever she looked at them, searching for some hidden answers within the soul.

She nodded, unwilling to trust her voice. Instead she watched in shock as Remus reached up and brushed a strand of hair off her cheek. Her breath caught in her throat and a chill settled on her shoulders, though she knew this had nothing to do with the cold.

"Why did it have to be you?"

Her eyes widened at his harsh tone, catching her off guard.

"Why do you have to face Zirak?" he clarified.

Calrheane sighed and stepped away from the comfort he offered. In this regard she would rely on her own strength to face what was to come.

Remus stared at her, a hurt expression on his face, but he said nothing.

She walked to the edge of the balcony and traced her hand alongside the railing. Her second sight showed the ripples caused by her hand in the _fëa_current, waves of blues and greens morphing into new colors.

"I have been asking myself that question for hundreds of years."

"Have you found an answer?" he asked from behind her.

"No," she whispered, "I don't _know_ why I couldn't have been born human, like the rest of my family. I do not know why the Vala and Fate chose me for this task."

His arm brushed hers as he came to stand next to her. "And what task is that?"

A few traces of snow swirled on the breeze, but for the most part it was a relatively calm day. White blanketed the castle, stretching out across the grounds and into the Dark Forest.

"To destroy Zirak, and finally allow Alcarinor to rest." She took a deep breath. "At least that is what his father wishes of me."

"And you can beat him?"

"I do not know."

"Then why can't another elf destroy him? I still don't understand why this has to be done by you." He shook his head, frustration clear in his voice and actions.

"Many have tried but they were each defeated, not by Zirak's power but by their own hearts. They were individually awed by his power and over time came to him as willing servants. They are now known as the Dannen, those who have fallen to the darkness in their souls."

"So what makes you different?"

"That's the true question isn't it? Being a half-elf, I'm not as susceptible to Zirak's corruption. The human, mortal part of my soul protects me. However, because of that my spirit can not hold nearly the amount of power as a full-blooded elf."

"But then why couldn't your mother fight Zirak? She was also half-elven."

"What Zirak did was unnatural and not the way of this world, so one had to be born that was also an anomaly; someone whose soul was not bound to the laws of elves or mortals. The connection I have with the _fëa_ world is similar to Zirak's but my soul cannot hold that power."

"Then how can you defeat him?" his voice was nothing more than a whisper and he did not look at her.

Calrheane sighed and shook her head. "I do not know. I left before I was ready; there was simply nothing else I could learn in Valinor. And so I came back."

They stood on her balcony, letting the light breeze pull their hair in odd directions and watching the white landscape. The silence of winter was comforting, just as being in his presence. There was a stillness about the world, a quiet kind of hush that settled about everything.

The cold seeped through her blouse and she wrapped her arms around her stomach. Remus turned towards her, a smile tugging at his lips.

"I think it's best if we go inside before we both freeze."

"You are most wise," she replied, unable to hold back a smile of her own.

Together they walked in and Calrheane was surprised to see that the oppressive feeling was gone from the room, as if it had been swept away. She headed towards her table and made two cups of tea, handing one to Remus.

"Thank you," he said as he took a sip. "That feels just right."

The teacup warmed her frozen fingers and she drank. "I agree."

Remus took a seat in the chair next to Star. "Calrheane, there's something else we need to talk about."

A feeling of foreboding rushed through her and she set the cup down on a nearby table. "Yes?"

"Zirak, he's the one that's been calling to the demons."

Calrheane nodded and sat down on the chair she'd fallen asleep in.

"Why?" he asked not looking at her.

"I cannot be sure for I did not hear the same call as they, but demons were once the servants of Morgoth. I suppose I should have expected that Zirak would seek to control them."

"And what about werewolves?"

Her breath caught in her throat. "Werewolves? Why did you ask?" her voice broke at the last word, but she did not remove her gaze from him.

It couldn't be; Zirak could not be calling to Remus.

He sighed and slumped back in his chair. For the first time since he'd come in, she saw how exhausted he really was. The dark circles that rimmed his eyes had not been caused from lack of sleep, but an affect from his weakened spirit. She had been so caught up with what was happening to her that she'd completely missed the signs right in front of her.

No, this couldn't be true. "Remus?"

That one word held within it several questions, ones that she did not have the heart to ask for fear gripped her still. After all they had been through would she lose him now?

Remus took a deep breath and nodded. "Yes, you've guessed right. I heard Zirak that night."

"Oh, Vala," she whispered.

In that moment she wanted nothing more than to scream out in frustration and anger, for being put in this situation but also at her own helplessness. This was something she could not protect Remus from.

"No," she shook her head, "this can't be happening."

"It is."

"But why? Why would he want you?"

"I'm a werewolf, why don't you tell me? How are werewolves tied to him?"

She stood up from her chair and paced about the room. "Sauron," she said with certainty.

"Sauron?"

"Yes, he created the first werewolves. They were not as you are now, but were fell spirits imprisoned in the body of beasts. I do not know of the details, but before Sauron was destroyed he worked some magic on their dying kind so that if a human were bitten they would be cursed with lycanthropy."

"And now it seems Zirak's taking up were Sauron left off."

"Are you sure of this?" She stopped pacing. "Perhaps you simply felt the aftermath of my magic or even Zirak's..."

Remus stood up, silencing her with his hand, palm facing her. "Please, I know what I felt."

"What," she asked quietly, "happened?"

"I don't know how to describe it," he said finally shaking his head. "It was darkness and evil; I couldn't breath and couldn't fight back. I heard a voice calling to the werewolf, telling it to let go of my human soul and give in to the blood."

He looked at some spot on the floor. "Calrheane, I'm losing control."

She shut her eyes and her fists clenched. Anger coursed through her at the defeated tone in Remus's voice; the loss of hope that seemed to come off him in waves.

"No," Calrheane said in a forceful voice.

"What?"

"I said no."

"I don't think you understand..."

"Yes, I do, believe me." She came up to him, kicking the hem of her skirt out of the way. "No one knows better than me."

Remus's eyes rose and he stepped back, but she only closed the distance further.

"If you give up now then just leave, because he's already won. If your _fëa_ does not fight with all of your soul, then you belong to him. And I will _not_ let him have you!"

"Calrheane...?"

The confused, quiet tone in his voice sent a shock wave through her, but she only ignored it. There were other pressing matters at hand, and if she'd learned anything about mortal emotions, they were still around to think on them later.

"You heard me," she said in a calmer voice, "you are my companion, the only one I have in this world. I will not let you fall to his darkness."

* * *

Outside in the western-most corridor of Hogwarts, Harry and Hermione waited. The students, for fear of the elf living there, never visited this area. However, this allowed the two of them to hang around without worry of being seen.

Hermione tapped her foot on the stone floor and glanced again at her watch, just as she had done two minutes ago. "This is stupid. Obviously she's not coming and I have a ton of work to do. Can we please just go?"

"No." Harry sighed and almost wished that he hadn't brought her along.

For the past half-hour he'd been listening to her whine about homework and assignments that weren't finished yet. But as far as he was concerned, she owed him.

"Come on, Harry, what do you expect to learn?"

"At the very least how the unicorn is doing."

"But can't you wait until tomorrow during class? And if Elessar's not teaching then Lupin would most likely know."

"Yes, but only if they're talking to each other again."

Hermione huffed out in frustration. "So you can find out that _tomorrow._"

"What's the big deal? If you didn't want to come in the first place then you should have said so."

"That's not what I mean." Her shoulders slumped. "This was the first time you've let me get close since, you know, that night."

"Then why are you worried about homework if you care so much?"

Saying that hurt, but he honestly needed to know. It was like the last time when he found out about Sirius Black being his parent's secret-keeper and the way she didn't tell him about Elessar's map.

"Because," she sighed, "that's the way I am. It's easier to think over questions from class then try and figure out what I need to do to get you to talk."

Harry turned away, suddenly uncomfortable. It wasn't what she said, it was the way she looked at him, that defeated expression that pleaded with him to help her understand.

Padded feet echoed in the hallway, a light thumping that they'd completely missed while they were talking.

"She's coming," Hermione said and pointed in the direction of Elessar's rooms.

Sure enough, Shra bounded towards them, her fluffy tail streaming out behind her. Her pink tongue hung out her mouth and her ears flicked back and forth as if trying to hear them.

Shra slowed down and trotted up to her. To Harry it looked as if she were smiling the way her lips were pulled back over her teeth, but not in a mincing way like when she growled at Malfoy last week.

"So? What happened?" Harry asked, unable to keep the excitement from his voice.

Shra sat back and waged her tail.

"Oh come on, don't make us wait!" Hermione exclaimed and she knelt down next to Shra. "What did they say?"

"_Wouldn't the two of you like to know_?"

Harry's mouth dropped open and he saw that Hermione mirrored his shocked expression.

"Why you!" Hermione shouted and jumped to her feet. "You learned sarcasm from Fred and George didn't you? That does it; I'm going to have a talk with them right now!"

She turned to leave and Harry grabbed her arm before she could get far. He couldn't contain the laughter as he caught sight of Shra.

"What do you think you're doing? I said I'd only wait until Shra got back and now she's back! I'm not waiting around all night playing her game. When I find those Weasley's..."

Harry managed to croak out a few words in between breaths, "Look...at...Shra."

"Huh?" Hermione turned and her eyebrows rose nearly to her forehead.

Shra lay on the ground, rubbing her back on the stone floor as if trying to get a hard to reach scratch, but it was the expression on her face that had Harry holding his stomach. Shra's mouth was opened wide and the corners of her mouth were pulled upwards.

Shra was laughing at them.

"Oh you!" Hermione said, trying her best to sound angry while not giggling.

"Alright, alright Shra. I think that's enough. Are you going to tell us what happened or not?"

Shra immediately jumped up, all hysterics gone. _"All is well. Remus and Calrheane are speaking again. They are both better for it_."

Harry smiled. He was happy for both of his teachers and that they were able to find comfort in each other. "But what about you know," Harry waved his hand in the air, "anything else?"

"Harry?" Hermione exclaimed. "What are you insinuating?"

"Nothing yet," he shrugged, "just a hunch."

He had neglected to tell Hermione about Elessar's reaction when he brought Lupin up in the conversation the other night. If Hermione wanted to know, well she'd just have to go consult that map of hers; he was keeping this to himself. For the time being at least.

"_Well, that is something we shall both have to watch for_," Shra said in a serious voice but Harry still saw the mischievous glint her eyes that usually meant trouble for Elessar.

"_For now they are friends and will be each other's strength. That is all that matters_."


End file.
